L I E) RA RY 
 
 OF THL 
 
 U N 1 VLRSITY 
 
 Of ILLINOIS 
 
 917o3 
 
 C63y 
 
 1822 
 
 I . H . S .
 
 A 
 
 YEAR'^S RESIDENCE, 
 
 IN THE 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
 Treatine: of the Face of the Country, the Climate, the 
 Soil, the Products, the Mode of Cultivating the Land, 
 the Prices of Land, of Labour, of Food, of Raiment; 
 of the Expenses of House-keeping, and of the usual 
 Manner of Living ; of the Manners and Customs of 
 the People ; and of the Institutions of the Country, 
 Civil, Political, and Religious. 
 
 IN THREE PARTS. 
 
 BV WIX.Z.ZA1III COBBSTT. 
 
 THIRD EDITION. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 Containing, — I. A Description of the Face of the Country, 
 the Climate, the Seasons, and the Soil, the facts being taken 
 from the Author's daily notes during a whole year. — II. An 
 Account of the AuUior's agricultural experiments in the 
 Cultivation of the Ruta Baga, or Russia, or Swedish Turnip, 
 M'hich affMd proof of what the climate and soil are. 
 
 LONDON : 
 Printed for J. M. Cobbett, 183, Fleet Strr( t. 
 
 18'i2.
 
 Vi'. -J 
 
 O 
 
 [Entered at Stationers' Ha-ll.J 
 
 B. BciuUij, Loll Court, tliti .Slnet.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 OF 
 
 PART I. 
 
 GsNfeRAL Preface to the Three Parts i 
 
 rj Chap, 1. 
 
 J Description of the Situation and Extent of Long 
 / Island, and also of the Face of the Country, and 
 ^ an Account of the Climate, Seasons, and Soil . 11 
 
 i 
 
 ■J Chap. IJ, 
 
 « RuTA Baga. Culture, Mode of preserving, and 
 Q^ Uses of the Ruta Baga, sometimes called the 
 - Russia, and sometimes the Swedish, Turnip . . 46 
 
 192375
 
 GENERAL PREFACE 
 
 THREE PARTS. 
 
 1. Throughout the whole of this work it is 
 
 my intention to number the paragraphs, from one end 
 to the other ofeach Part. This renders the busines« 
 of reference more easy than it can be rendered by any 
 mode in my power to find out; and, easy reference 
 saves a great deal of paper and print, and also, which 
 ought to be more valuable, a great deal of time, of 
 which an industrious man has never any to spare. To 
 desire the reader to look at paragraph such a number 
 of such a part, will frequently, as he will find, save 
 him both money and labour; for, without this power 
 of reference, the paragraph, or the substance of it, 
 would demand being repeated in the place where the 
 reference would be pointed out to him. 
 
 2. Amongst all the publications, which I have yet 
 seen, on the subject of the United States, as a country 
 to live in, and especially to farm in, I have never yet
 
 ii General Preface. 
 
 observed one that conveyed to Englishmen any thing 
 like a correct notion of the matter. Some writers of 
 Travels in these States have jolted along in the stages 
 from place to place, have lounged away their time with 
 the idle part of their own countrymen, and, taking every 
 thing different from what they left at home for the effect 
 of ignorance, and every thing not servile to be the 
 effect of insolence, have described the country as unfit 
 for a civilized being to reside in. Others, coming 
 with a resolution to find every thing better than at 
 home, and weakly deeming themselves pledged to find 
 climate, soil, and all blessed by the effects of freedom, 
 have painted the country as a perfect paradise; they 
 have seen nothing but blooming orchards and smiling 
 faces. 
 
 3. The account, which I shall give, shall be that of 
 actual experience. I will say what I know and what 1 
 have seen and what 1 have done. 1 mean to give an 
 account of a Year's Residence, ten months in this 
 Island and two months in Pennsylvania, in which I 
 went back to the first ridge of mountains. In the course 
 of the THREE PARTS, of which this work will consist, 
 every thing which appears to me useful to persons in- 
 tending to come to this country shall be communicated ; 
 but, more especially that which may be useful to farmers ; 
 because, as to such matters, I have ample experience. 
 Indeed, this is the main thing ; for this is really and truly 
 a country of farmers. Here, Governors, Legislators, 
 Presidents, all are farmers. A farmer here is not the 
 poor dependent wretch that a Yeomanry-Cavalry man 
 is, or that a Treason-Jury man is. A farmer here
 
 Gex£ral Paefack. Hi 
 
 depends on nobody but himself and on his own proper 
 means; and, if he be not at his ease, and even rich, it 
 must be his own fault. 
 
 4. To make men clearly see what they may do in 
 any situation of life, one of the best modes, if not the 
 very best, is to gi^e them, in detail, an account of what 
 one has done oneself in that same situation, and how 
 and when and where one has done it. This, as far as 
 relates to farming and house-keeping in the country, is 
 the mode that I shall pursue. I shall give an account 
 of what I have done ; and, while this will convince any 
 good farmer, or any man of tolerable means, that he 
 may, if he will, do the same, it will give him an idea of 
 the climate, soil, crops, &c. a thousand times more neat 
 and correct, than could he conveyed to his mind by any 
 general description, unaccompanied with actual experi- 
 mental accounts. 
 
 5. As the expressing of this intention may, perhaps, 
 suggest to the reader to ask, how it is that much can be 
 known on the subject of Farming by a man, who, for 
 thirty-six out o^ fifty-two years of his life has been a 
 Soldier or a Political Writer, and who, of course, has 
 spent so large a part of his time in garrisons and in great 
 cities, I will beg leave to satisfy this natural curiosity 
 beforehand. 
 
 6. Early habits and affections seldom quit us while 
 we have vigour of mind left. I was brought up under 
 a father, whose talk was chiefly about his garden and 
 his fields, with regard to which he was famed for his 
 skill and his exemplary neatness. From my very in- 
 fancy, from the age of six years, when I climbed up
 
 >V CrENBRAL PrEFACE. 
 
 the side of a steep sand-rock, and there scooped m«* 
 out a plot four feet square to make me a garden, and 
 the soil for which I carried up in the bosom of my 
 little blue smock-frock (or hunting-shirt), I have nevef 
 lost one particle of my passion for these healthy and 
 rational and heart- cheering pursuits, in which every 
 day presents something new, in which the spirits are 
 never suffered to flag, and in which industry, skill, and 
 care are sure to meet with their due reward. I have 
 never, for any eight months together, during my whole 
 life, been without a garden. So sure are we to over- 
 come difficulties where the heart and mind are bent on 
 the thing to be obtained ! 
 
 7. The beautiful plantation of American Trees 
 round my house at Botley, the seeds of which were 
 sent me, at my request, from Pennsylvania, in 1806, 
 and some of which are now nearly forty feet high; all 
 sown and planted by myself, will, I hope, long remain 
 as a specimen of my perseverance in this way. Dur- 
 ing my whole life I have been a gardener. There is 
 no part of the business, which first or last, I have not 
 performed with my own hands. And, as to it, I owe 
 very little to books, except that of Tull ; for I never 
 read a good one in my life, except a French book, 
 called the Manuel du Jardinier. 
 
 8. As to farming, I was bred at the plough-tail, and 
 in the Hop-Gardens of Farnham in Surrey, my native 
 place, and which spot, as it so happened, is the neatest 
 in England, and, I believe, in the whole world. All 
 there is a garden. The neat culture of the hop ex- 
 tends its influence to the fields round about Hedges
 
 Gbnbbal Preface. v 
 
 cut with shears and every other mark of skill and care 
 strike the eye at Famham, and become fainter and 
 fainter as you go from it in every direction. I have 
 had, besides, great experience in farming for several 
 years of late j for, one man will gain more knowledge 
 in a year than another will in a life. It is the taste for 
 the thing that really gives the knowledge. 
 
 9. To this taste, produced in me by a desire to imi- 
 tate a father whom I ardently loved, and to whose very 
 word I listened with admiration, I owe no small part 
 of my happiness, lor a greater proportion of which 
 very few men ever had to be grateful to God. These 
 pursuits, innocent in themselves, instructive in their 
 very nature, and always tending to preseWe health, 
 have a constant, a never-failing source, of recreation 
 to me; and, which I count amongst the greatest of 
 their benefits and blessings, they have always, in my 
 house, supplied the place of the card-table, the dice- 
 box, the chess-board and the lounging bottle. Time never 
 hangs on the hands of him, who delights in these ur 
 suits, and who has books on the subject to read. Even 
 when shut up within the walls of a prison, for having 
 complained thatEnghshmen had been flogged in the heart 
 of England under a guard of German Bayonets and 
 Sabres ; even then, I found in these pursuits a source 
 of pleasure inexhaustible. To that of the whole of 
 our English books on these matters, I then added the 
 reading of all the valuable French books ; and I then, 
 for the first time, read that Book of all Books on hus- 
 bandry, the work of Jethro Tull, to the principles of 
 whom I owe more thaa to all my other reading and
 
 vi Grn£Ral Preface. 
 
 all my experience, and of which principles I hope to 
 find time to give a sketchy at least, in some future Part 
 of this work. 
 
 10. I >vish it to be observed, . that, in any thing 
 which I may say, during the course of this work, though 
 truth will compel me to state facts, which will, doubt- 
 less, tend to induce farmers to leave England for Ame- 
 rica, I advise no one so to do. I shall set down in 
 writing nothing but what is strictly true. I myself 
 am bound to England for life. My notions of alle- 
 giance to country ; my great and anxious desire to as- 
 sist in the restoration of her freedom and happiness ; 
 my opinion that I possess, in some small degree, at 
 any rate, the power to render such assistance ; and, 
 above all the other considerations, my unchangeable 
 attachment to the people of England, and especially 
 those who have so bravely struggled for our rights : 
 these bind me to England ; but, I shall leave others to 
 judge and to act for themselves. 
 
 VVm. cobbett. 
 
 North Hempsted, Long Island^ 
 21st April, 1818.
 
 F 
 
 L.
 
 YEAR'S RESIDENCE, 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 Description of the Situation and Extent of Long Island^ 
 and also of the Face of the Country, and an Account 
 (f the Climate, Seasons, and Soil. 
 
 11. Long Island is situated in what may be called 
 
 the middle climate of that part of the United States, 
 
 which, coastwise, extends from Boston to the Bay of 
 
 Chesapeake. Farther to the South, the cultivation is 
 
 chiefly by negroes, and farther to the North than Boston 
 
 is too cold and arid to be worth much notice, though, 
 
 doubtless, there are to be found in those parts good 
 
 spots of land and good farmers. Boston is about 200 
 
 " "es to the North of me, and the Bay of Chesapeake 
 
 ,»out the same distance to the South. In speaking of 
 
 «i climate and seasons, therefore, an allowance must be 
 
 ..ide, of hotter or colder, earlier or later, in a degree 
 
 jportioned to those distances ; because I can speak 
 
 positively only of the very spot, at which I have resided. 
 
 But this is a matter of very little consequence ; seeing 
 
 hat every part has its seasons first or last. All the 
 
 ili'erence is, that, in some parts of the immense space 
 
 -f which I have spoken, there is a .little more summer 
 
 ban in other parts. The same crops will, 1 believe, 
 
 ,Tow in them all. 
 
 B
 
 2 Climate, Seasons, &c. [Part I. 
 
 12. The situation of Long Island is this : it is about 
 130 miles long, and, on an average, about 8 miles broad. 
 It extends in length from the Bay of the City of New 
 York to within a short distance of the State of Rhode 
 Island. One side of it is against the sea, the other side 
 looks across an arm of the sea into a part of the State of 
 New York (to which Long Island belongs) and into a 
 part of the State of Connecticut. At the end nearest 
 the city of New York it is separated from the site of 
 that city, b}' a channel so narrow as to be crossed by a 
 Steam-Boat in a few minutes; and this boat, with ano- 
 ther near it, impelled by a team of horses, which works 
 in the boat, form the mo{le of conveyance from the Island 
 to the city, for horses, waggons, and every thing else. 
 
 13. The Island is divided into three counties ; King's 
 county. Queen's county, and the county of Sutfolk. 
 King's county takes off the end next New York city, for 
 about 13 miles up the island; Queen's county cuts off 
 another slice about thirty miles further up ; and all the 
 rest is the county of Suffolk. These counties are divided 
 into townships. x\nd, the municipal government of Jus- 
 tices of the Peace, Sheriffs, Constables, &c. is in nearly 
 the English wav, with such differences as I shall notice 
 in the Second Part of this work. 
 
 14. There is a ridc/e of hills, which runs from one 
 end of the Island to the other. The two sides are flats, 
 or, rather, very easy and imperceptible slopes towards 
 the sea. There are no rivers, or rivulets except here 
 and there a little run into a bottom M-hich lets in the sea- 
 water for a mile or two as it were to meet the springs. 
 Dryness is, therefore, a great characteristic of this Island. 
 At the place where I live, which is in Queen's county, 
 and very nearly the middle of the Island, crosswise, we 
 have no water, except in a well seventy feet deep, and 
 from the clouds ; yet, we never experience a want oi 
 water. A large rain-water cistern to take the run from 
 the house, and a duck-pond to take that from the bam, 
 afford an ample supply ; and I can truly say, that *.<■ 
 to the article of water, I never was situated to please 
 me so well in ray litis before. The rains come about 
 once in fifteen days ; they come in abundance for aboat 
 twenty-four hours : and then all is fair and all u dry
 
 Chap. I.] Climatb, Seasons, &c. 3 
 
 again immediately : yet here and there, especially on 
 the hills, there are ponds, as they call them here ; but 
 in England, they would be called lakes, from their ex- 
 tent as well as from their depth. These, with the various 
 trees which surround them, are very beautiful indeed. 
 
 15. The farms are so many plots originally scooped 
 out of woods ; though in King's and Queen's counties the 
 land is generally pretty much deprived of the woods, 
 which, as in every other part of America that I have 
 seen, are beautiful beyond all description. The Walnut 
 of two or three sorts, the Plane, the Hickory, Chesnut, 
 Tulip Tree, Cedar, Sassafras, Wild Cherry (sometimes 
 60 feet high) ; more than fifty sorts of Oaks ; and many 
 other trees, but especially the Flowering Locust, or 
 Acacia, which, in my opinion, surpasses all other trees, 
 and some of which, in this Island, are of a very great 
 height and girt. The Orchards constitute a feature of 
 great beauty. Every farm has its orchard, and, in 
 general, of cherries as well as of apples and pears. Of 
 the cultivation and crops of these, I shall speak in ano- 
 ther part of the work. 
 
 16. There is one great drawback to all these beau- 
 ties, namely, the fences; and, indeed, there is another 
 with us South-of-England people ; namely, the general 
 (for there are many exceptions) slovenliness about the 
 homesteads, and particularly about the dwellings of 
 labourers. Mr. Birkbkck complains of this; and, in- 
 deed, what a contrast with the homesteads and cottages, 
 which he left behind him near that exemplary [spot, 
 Guildford in Surrey ! Both blots are, however, easily 
 accounted for. 
 
 17. The fences are of post and rail. This arose, in 
 the first place, from the abundance of timber that men 
 knew not how to dispose of It is now become an affair 
 of {/r eat expense in the populous parts of the country; 
 and, that it might, with great advantage and perfect 
 ease, be got rid of, I shall clearly show in another part 
 of my work. 
 
 18. The dwellings and gardens, and little mit-houset 
 of labourers, which form so striking a feature of beauty 
 in England, and especially in Kent, Sussex, Surrey, 
 
 kjb
 
 4 Climate, Seasons, &c. [Part I. 
 
 and Hampshire, and whicli constitute a sort of fairy-land, 
 ■when compared with those of the labourers in France, 
 are what 1, for my part, most feel the want of seeing 
 upon Long Island. Instead of the neat and warm little 
 cottage, the yard, cow-st^ible, pig-sty, hen-house, all in 
 miniature, and the garden, nicely laid out and the paths 
 bordered with flowers, while the cottage door is crowned 
 •with a garland of roses or honey-suclde ; instead of these, 
 "we here see the labourer content with a shell of boards, 
 ■while all around him is as barren as the sea-beach ; 
 though the natural earth would send melons, the finest 
 in the world, creeping round his door, and though there 
 is no English shrub, or flower, which will not grow and 
 flourish here. This M'ant of attention in such cases is 
 hereditary from the first settlers. They found land so 
 plenty, that they treated small spots with contempt. 
 Besides, the example of neatness was wanting. There 
 •were no gentlemen's gardens, kept as clean as drawing- 
 rooms, with grass as even as a carpet. From endea- 
 vouring to imitate perfection men arrive at mediocrity ; 
 and, those who never have seen, or heard of perfection, 
 in these matters, will naturally be slovens. 
 
 19. Yet, notwithstanding these blots, as I deem them, 
 the face of the country, in summer, is very fine. From 
 December to May, there is not a speck of green. No 
 green-grass and turnips, and wheat, and rye, and rape, 
 as in England. The frost comes and sweeps all vegeta- 
 tion and verdant existence from the face of the earth. 
 The wheat and rye live; but, they lose all their verdure. 
 Yet the state of things in June, is, as to crops, and 
 fruits, much about what it is in England ; for, when 
 things do begin to grow, they grow indeed ; and the 
 general harvest for grain (what we call corn) is a full 
 month earlier than in the South of England ! 
 
 20. Ha\ing now given a sketch of the fafee of the 
 country, it only remains for rae to speak in this place of 
 the Climate and Seasons, because 1 shall sufficiently 
 describe the Soil, when I come to treat of my own 
 actual experience of it. I do not like, in these cases, 
 general descriptions. Indeed, they must be Aery im- 
 perfect; and, therefore, I will just give a copy of a
 
 Cbap. I.] Journal. — May. 
 
 JOURNAL, 
 
 kept by myself, from the 5th of May 1817, to the 20th 
 of April, 1810. This, it appears to me, is the best way 
 of proceeding ; for, then, there can be no deception ; 
 and, therefore, I insert it as follows. 
 
 1817. May. 
 
 5. Landed at New York. 
 
 6. Went over to Long Island. Very fine day, warm 
 as May in England. The Peach-trees going out of 
 bloom. Plum-trees in full bloom. 
 
 7. Cold, sharp. East wind, just like that which makes 
 the old debauchees in London shiver and shake. 
 
 8. A little frost in the night, and a warm day. 
 
 9. Cold in the shade and hot in the sun. 
 
 10. The weather has been dry for some time. The 
 grass is only beginning to grow a little. 
 
 1 1 . Heavy thunder and rain in the night, and all this 
 day. 
 
 12. Rain till noon. Then warm and beautiful. 
 
 13. Warm, fine day. Saw in the garden, lettuces, 
 onions, carrots, and parsnips, just come up out of the 
 ground. 
 
 14. Sharp, drying wind. People travel with great 
 coats, to be guarded against the morning and evening 
 air. 
 
 15. Warm and fair. The farmers are beginning to 
 plant their Indian Corn. 
 
 16. Dry Avind, warm in the sun. Cherry trees begin 
 to come out in bloom. The Oaks show no green yet. 
 The Sassafras in flower, or, whatever else it is called. 
 It resembles ihe Elder flower a good deal. 
 
 17. Dry Avind. Warmer than yesterday. An Eng- 
 lish April morning, that is to say, a sharp April morning, 
 and a June day. 
 
 18.*Warm and fine. Grass pushes on. Saw some 
 Luserne in a warm spot, 8 inches high. 
 
 19. Rain all day. Grass grows apace. People plant 
 potatoes. 
 
 20. Fine and warm. A good cow sells, with a calf
 
 ft Journal.— June. [Part I. 
 
 by her side, for 45 dollars. A steer, two years old, 
 20 dollars. A working ox, five years old, 40 dollars. 
 
 21 . Fine and warm day ; but the morning and even- 
 ing coldish. The cherry-trees in full bloom, and the 
 pear-trees nearly the same. Oats, sown in April, up, 
 and look extremely fine. 
 
 22. Fine and warm. — x\pple-trees fast coming into 
 bloom. Oak buds breaking. 
 
 23. Fine and warm. — Things grow away. Saw kid- 
 ney-beans up and looking pretty well. Saw some beets 
 coming up. Not a sprig ol' parsley to be had for love 
 or money. AVliat improvidence ! Saw some cabbage 
 plants up and in the fourth leaf. 
 
 24. Rain at night and all day to-day. Apple-trees 
 in full bloom, and cherry-bloom "falling off. 
 
 25. Fine and warm. 
 
 26. Dry coldish wind, but hot sun. The grass has 
 pushed on most furiously. 
 
 27. Dry wind. Spaded up a corner of ground and 
 sowed (in the natural earth) cucumbers and melons. 
 Just the time, they tell me. 
 
 28. Warm and fair. 
 
 29. Cold wind ; but, the sun warm. No fires in par- 
 lours now, except now-and-then in the mornings and 
 evenings. 
 
 80. Fine and warm. — Apples have dropped their 
 blossoms. And now the grass, the wheat, the rye, 
 and every thing, which has stood the year, or winter 
 through, appear to have overtaken their like in Old 
 England. 
 
 31. Coldish morning and evening. 
 
 June. 
 
 1. Fine warm day ; but, saw a man, in the evening, 
 covering something in a garden. It was kidney-beans, 
 and he feared a froi\t ! To be sure, they are very 
 tender things. I have had them nearly killed in Eng- 
 land, by J%ine frosts. , 
 
 2. Rain and warm. — The oaks and all the trees, 
 except the Flowering Locusts, begin to look greenish. 
 
 3. Fine and warm. — The Indian Com is generally 
 corae up ; but looks yellow in consequence of the cold
 
 Chap. I.] Journal, — June. ♦ 
 
 nights and little frosts. — N, B. I ought here to describe 
 to my English readers what this same Indian Corn, 
 
 is. The Americans call it Corn^ by way of eminence, 
 
 and wheat, rye, barley and oats, which we confoimd 
 under the name of corn, they confound under the name 
 of (/rain. The Indian Corn in its ripe seed state, c<)n- 
 sists of an ear, which is in the shape of a spruce-Jir 
 apple. The grains, each of which is about the bulk of 
 the largest marrow-fat pea, are placed all round the 
 stalk, which goes up the middle, and this little stalk, to 
 which the seeds adhere, is called the Corn Cob. Some 
 of these ears (of which from I to 4 grow upon a plant) 
 are more than afoot long ; and I have seen many, each 
 of which weighed more than ei(/fiteen ounces, avoir- 
 dupois weight. They are long or short, heavy or light, 
 according to the land and the culture. I was at a 
 Tavern, in the village of North Hempstead, last fall 
 (of 1817) when I had just read, in the Courier English 
 newspaper, of a Noble Lord who had been sent on his 
 travels to France at ten years of age, and who, from 
 his high-blooded ignorance of vulgar things, I suppose, 
 had swallowed a whole ear of corn, which, as the news- 
 paper told us, had well-nigh choake<l the Noble Lord. 
 The Landlord had just been shoeing me some of his 
 fine ears of Corn ; and I took the paper out of my 
 pocket and reud the paragraph : "What ! " said he, swal- 
 " low a ichole ear of corn at once ! No wonder tliat they 
 " have swallowed up poor Old .Fohn Bull's substance." 
 After a hearty laugh, we explained to him, that it must 
 have been wheat or barley. Then ho said, and very 
 justly, that llie Lord must have been a much greater 
 fool than a hog is. — The plant of the Indian corn grows, 
 upon an average, to about 8 feet high, and sends forth 
 the most beautiful leaves, resembling the broad leaf of 
 the water-flag. It is planted in hills, or rows, so that 
 the plough can go between the standing crop. Its 
 stalks and leaves are the best of fodder, if carefully 
 stacked; and its grain is good for every thing. It is eaten 
 by man and beast in all the various shapes of whole 
 corn, meal, cracked, and every other way that can be 
 imagined. It is tossed down to hogs, sheep, cattle, in 
 the whole ear. The two former thresh for themselves^
 
 8 JouRXAL. — June. [Part I. 
 
 and the latter eat cob and all. It is eaten, and is a very 
 delicious thing, in its half-ripe, or milky state ; and 
 these were the " ears of coin " which the Pharisees 
 complained of the Disciples for plucking off to eat on 
 the Sabbath Day ; for, how Mere they to eat icheat ears, 
 unless after the manner of the " Noble Lord" above 
 mentioned 1 Besides, the Indian Corn is a native of 
 Palestine. The French, who, doubtless, brought it 
 originally from the Levant, call it Turkish Corn. The 
 Locusts, that John the Baptist lived on, were not (as I 
 used to wonder at when a boy) the noxious vermin that 
 devoured the land of Egypt ; but the bean, Avhich comes 
 in the long pods borne by the three-thorned Locust-tree, 
 and of which I have an abundance here. The wild 
 honey was the honey of wild bees ; and the hollow 
 trees here contain swarms of them. The trees are cut, 
 sometimes, in winter, and the part containing the 
 swarm, brought and placed near the house. I saw this 
 lately in Pennsylvania. 
 
 4. Fine rain. Began about ten o'clock. 
 
 5. Rain nearly all day. 
 
 6. Fine and warm. Things grow surprisingly. 
 
 7. Fine and warm. Hather cold at night. 
 
 8. Hot. 
 
 9. Rain all day. The wood green, and so beautiful ! 
 The leaves look so fresh and delicate ! But, the Flow- 
 ering Locust only begins to show leaf It will, by and 
 by, make up, by its beauty, for its shyness at present. 
 
 10. Fine warm day. The cattle are up to their eyes 
 in grass. 
 
 11. Fine warm day. Like the very, very finest in 
 England in June. 
 
 12. Fine day. And, when I say fine, I mean really 
 fine. Not a cloud in the sky. 
 
 13. Fine and hot. About as hot as the hottest of our 
 English July Aveather in common years. Lucerne, 2-^ 
 leet high. 
 
 14 / Fine and hot; but, we have always a ircese when 
 it is hot, which I did not formerly find in Pennsylvania. 
 This arises, I suppose, from our nearness to the sea. 
 
 15. Rain all day. 
 
 10. Fine, beautiful day. Never saw such fine weather.
 
 Chap. I.] JoL'RN'AL.— Ji/jje! 9 
 
 Not a morsel of dirt. The ground sucks up all. I 
 walk about and work in the land in shoes made of deer- 
 skin. They are dressed ichitc, like breeches-leather. 
 I began to leave off' my coat to day, and do not expect 
 to put it on again till October. My hat is a white chip, 
 witn broad brims. Never better health. 
 
 17. Fine day. The partridges (miscalled quails) 
 begin to sit. The orchard full of birds' nests ; and, 
 amongst others, a dove is sitting on her eggs in an 
 apple tree. 
 
 18. Fine day. Green peas fit to gather in pretty 
 early gardens, though only of the common hotspur 
 sort. IVLn-duke cherries begin to be ripe. 
 
 19. Fine day. But, now conies my alarm! The 
 vmsqnitoes, and, still worse, the common house-fly ^ 
 which used to plague us so in Pennsylvania, and which 
 were the only things 1 ever disliked belonging to the 
 climate of America. IMusquitoes are bred in stagnant 
 water, of which here is none. FUes are bred in Jiltliy 
 of which none shall be near me as long as 1 can use 
 a shovel and a broom. They will follow /yes/t meat 
 and Ji'sk. Have neither, or be very careful. 1 have 
 this day put all these precautions in practice ; and, now- 
 let us see the result. 
 
 20. Fine day. Carrots and parsnips, sown on the 
 3d and 4th instant, all up, and in rough leaf! Onions 
 up. The Avhole garden green in 18 days from the 
 Bowing. 
 
 21. Very hot. Thunder and heavy rain at night. 
 
 22. Fine day. May-duke cherries ripe. 
 
 23. Hot and close. Distant thunder. 
 
 24. Fine day. 
 
 25. F'ine day. White-heart and black-heart cherries 
 getting ripe. 
 
 26. Rain. Planted out cucumbers and melons. I 
 find I am rather late. 
 
 27. Fine day. 
 
 28. Fine day. Gathered cherries for drying for 
 ^'inter use. 
 
 29. Fine day. 
 
 30. Rain all night. People are planting out their 
 pabbages lor the wmter crop.
 
 10 Journal.— July. [Part I. 
 
 July. 
 
 I. Fine day. Bought 20 bushels of English salt for 
 half a dollar a bushel. 
 
 2 & 3. Fine days. 
 
 4. Fine day. Carrots, sown 3d June, 3 inches high. 
 
 5. Very hot day. No Jlies yet. 
 
 6. Fine hot day. Currants ripe. Oats in haw. 
 Rye nearly ripe. Indian corn two feet high. Hay- 
 making nearly done. 
 
 7. Rain and thunder early in the morning. 
 
 8. Fine hot day. Wear no waistcoat now, except in 
 the morning and evening. 
 
 9. Fine hot day. Apples to make puddings and 
 pies ; but our housekeeper does not know how to make 
 an apple-pudding. She puts the pieces of apple 
 amongst the batter ! She has not read Peter Pindar. " 
 
 10. Fine hot day. 1 work in the land morning and 
 evening, and write in the day in a north room. The 
 dress is now become a very convenient, or, rather, a 
 very little inconvenient affair. Shoes, trowsers, shirt 
 and hat. No plague of dressing and undressing ! 
 
 II. Fine hot day in the morning, but began to grow 
 dark in the afternoon. A sort of haze came over. 
 
 12. Very hot day. The common black cherries, 
 the little red honey cherries, all ripe now, and falling 
 and rotting by the thousands of pounds weight. But, 
 this place which I rent is remarkable for abundance of 
 cherries. Some early peas, sown in the second week 
 in June, fit for the table. This is thirty days from the 
 time of sowing. No Jlies yet ! No rmisqnitoes ! 
 
 13. Hot and heavy, like the pleading of a quarter- 
 sessions lawyer. No breeze to-day, which is rarely 
 the case. 
 
 14. Fine day. The Indian corn four feet high. 
 
 15. Fine day. We eat turnips sown on the second 
 of June. Early cabbages (a gift) sown in May. 
 
 16. Fine hot day. Fine young onions, sown on the 
 8th of June. 
 
 17. Fine hot da}-. Hardest of M'heat, rye, oats and 
 barley, half done. But, indeed, what is it to do when 
 the weather does so much !
 
 Cbap. I.] JouRXAt.— July. 11 
 
 18. Fine hot day. 
 
 19. Rain all day. 
 
 20. Fine hot day, and some wind. All dr}' again as 
 completely as if it had not rained for a year. 
 
 21. Fine hot day; but heavy rain at night. Flies, 
 a feic. Not more than in England. My son John, 
 who has just returned from Pennsylvania, says they are 
 as great torments there as ever. At a friend's house 
 (a farm house) there, fivo qvnrfs of flies were caught 
 in one window in one day ! I do not believe that there 
 are two quarts in all my premises. But, then, I cause 
 all xcnsh and slops to be carried forty yards from the 
 house. 1 suffer no peelings or greens, or any rubbish, 
 to lie near the house. I suffer no fresh meat to remain 
 more than one day fresh in the house. I proscribe all 
 fish. Do not suffer a dog to enter the house. Keep all 
 pigs at a distance of sixty yards. And sweep all round 
 about once every week at least. 
 
 22. Fine hot day. 
 
 23. Fine hot day. Sowed Buck-xiheat in a piece of 
 very poor ground. 
 
 24. Fine hot day. Harvest (for grain) nearly over. 
 The main part of the tcheat, &c. is put into Barns, 
 which are very large and commodious. Some they put 
 into small ric/is, or stacks, out in the fields, and there 
 they stand, without any thatchinr/, till they are wanted 
 to be taken in during the winter, and, sometimes they 
 remain out fur a whole year. Nothing can prove more 
 clearly than this fact, the great diirerence between this 
 climate and that of England, where, as every body 
 knows, such stacks would be mere heaps of muck by 
 January, if they were not, long and long before that 
 time, carried clean off the farm by the wind. The 
 crop is sometimes threshed out in the field by the feet 
 of horsed, as in the South of France. It is sometimes 
 carried into the bani's floor, M-here three or four horses, 
 or oxen, going abreast, trample out the grain as the 
 sheaves, or swarths, are brought in. And this explains 
 to us the humane precept of Moses, " not to muzzle the 
 " ox as he treadeth out the grain," which we country 
 people in England cannot make out. I used to be puz- 
 zled too, in the story of Ruth, to imagine how Boaz
 
 12 Journal. — July. [Parti. 
 
 could be busy amongst his threshers \n the height of 
 harvest. — The weather is so fine, ajid the grain so dry, 
 that, when the wheat and rye are threshed by the flail, 
 the sheaves are barely untied, laid upon the floor, re- 
 ceive a few raps, and are then tied up, clean threshed 
 for straw, without the order of the straws being in the 
 least changed ! The ears and hutts retain their places 
 in the sheaf, and the band that tied the sheaf before ties 
 it again. The straAv is as bright as burnished gold. 
 Not a speck in it. These facts will speak volumes to 
 an English farmer, who will see with what ease work 
 must be done in such a country. 
 
 25. Fine hot day. Early pea, mentioned before, 
 harvested, in forty days from the sowing. Not more 
 Jiies than in England. 
 
 26. Fine broiling day. The Indian Corn grows 
 away now, and has, each plant, at least, a tumbler full 
 of water standing in the sockets of its leaves, while the 
 sun seems as if it Avould actually burn one. Yet Me 
 have a breeze ; and, under these fine shady Walnuts 
 and Locusts and Oaks, and on the fine grass beneath, 
 it is very pleasant. Woodcocks begin to come very 
 thick about. 
 
 27. Fine broiler again. Some friends from England 
 here to-day. We spent a pleasant day ; drank success 
 to the Debt, and de.struction to the Borough mongers, in 
 gallons of milk and water. — Not more Jlies than in 
 JEngland. 
 
 28. Very, very hot. The Thermometer 85 degrees 
 in the shade ; but a breeze. Never slept better in all 
 my life. No covering. A sheet under me, and a straw 
 bed. And then, so happy to have no clothes to put on 
 but shoes and trowsers ! My window looks to the East. 
 The moment the Aurora appears, I am in the Orchard. 
 It is impossible for any human being to lead a pleasanter 
 life than tliis. How I pity those, who are compelled to 
 endure the stench of cities ; but, for those who remain 
 there without being compelled, 1 have no pity. 
 
 29. Still the same degree of heat. 1 measured a 
 water-melon runner, whicli grew eighteen inches in the 
 last 48 hours. The dctvs noM' are equal to showers ; I 
 ff(?c|ueHtly, in the morning, wash hands and face, teet
 
 Chap. I.] Journal.— August. 13 
 
 and legs, in the dew on the high grass. The Indian 
 Corn shoots up now so beautifully ! 
 
 30. Still melting hot. 
 
 31, Same weather. 
 
 August. 
 
 1. Same weather. I take off two shirts a day 
 wringing wet, I have a clothes-horse to hang them on 
 to dry. Drink about 20 good tumblers of milk and 
 water every day. No ailments. Head always clear. 
 Go to bed by day-light very often. Just after the hens 
 go to roost, and rise again with them. 
 
 2. Hotter and hotter, I think ; but, in this weather 
 we always have our friendly breeze. — Not a single mus- 
 quito yet. 
 
 3. Cloudy and a little shattering of rain ; but not 
 enough to lay the dust. 
 
 4. Fine hot day. 
 
 5. A very little rain. Dried up in a minute. Planted 
 cabbages with dust running into the holes. 
 
 6. Tine hot day. 
 
 7. Appearances forebode rain. — I have observed 
 that, Avlien rain is approaching, the stones (^ which are 
 the rock stone of the country), with which a piazza 
 adjoining the house is paved, get ivet. This wet appears, 
 at first, at the top of each round stone, and, then, by 
 degrees, goes all over it. Rain is s?/re to follow. It has 
 never missed ; and, which is very curious, the rain 
 lasts exactly as long as the stones take to get all over 
 wet before it conies ! The stones dry again before the 
 rain ceases. However, this foreknowledge of rain is of 
 little use here ; for, when it comes, it is sure to be soon 
 gone; and to be succeeded by a sun, whiali restores all 
 to rights. 
 
 7. I wondered, at first, why I never saw any iaro- 
 melers in people's houses, as almost every farmer has 
 them in England. But, I soon found, that they would 
 be, if perfectly true, of no use. Early pears ripe. 
 
 8. Fine rain. It comes pouring down. 
 
 9. Rain still, which has now lasted 60 hours. — Killed 
 a lamb, and, in order to keep it fresh, sunk it down iqto 
 ^he %cell — The wind makes the Indian corn bend, ^
 
 14 Journal.— August. [Part I. 
 
 10. Fine clear hot day. The grass, which was 
 brown the day belore yesterday, is already beautifully 
 green. In one place, where there appeared no signs 
 of vegetation, the grass is tico inches high. 
 
 11. Heavy rains at night. 
 12 & 13. 'Hot and close. 
 
 14. Hot and close. No breezes these three days. 
 
 15. Very hot indeed. 80 degrees in a North aspect 
 at 9 in the evening. Three wet shirts to-day. Obliged 
 to put on a dry shirt to go to bed in. 
 
 16. Very hot indeed. 85 degrees; the thermometer 
 hanging under the Locust-trees and swinging about with 
 the breeze. The dews are now like heavy showers. 
 
 17. Fine hot day. Very hot. I fight the Bo- 
 rough-villains, stripped to ray shirt, and with nothing 
 on besides, but shoes and trowsers. Never ill; no 
 head-aches; no muddled brains. The milk and toater 
 is a great cause of this. I live on salads, other garden 
 vegetables, apple-puddings and pies, butter, cheese, 
 {very good from Rhode Island) eggs, and bacon. Re- 
 solved to have no more fresh meat, 'till cooler weather 
 comes. Those who have a mind to swallow, or be 
 swallowed by, /iies, may eat fresh meat for me. 
 
 18. Fine and hot. 
 
 19. Very hot. 
 
 20. Very hot ; but a breeze every day and night. 
 Buckwheat, sown 23rd July, 9 inches high, and, poor 
 as the ground was, looks very well. 
 
 21 & 22. Fine hot days. 
 
 23. Fine hot day. I have now got an English 
 woman-servant, and she makes us famous apple-pud- 
 dings. She says she has never read Peter Pindar's 
 account of the dialogue between the King and the Cot- 
 tage-woman ; and yet she knows very well how to get 
 the apples within side of the paste. N.B. No man 
 ought to come here, whose wife and daughters cannot 
 make puddings and pies. 
 
 24, 25, & 26. Fine hot days. 
 
 27. Fine hot day. Have not seen a cloud for many days. 
 
 28. Windy and rather coldish. Put on cotton stock- 
 ings and a waistcoat with sleeves. Do not like this 
 weather.
 
 Chap. I.] Journal. — September. 15 
 
 29. Same weather. Do not like it, 
 
 30. Fine and hot again. Give a great many apples 
 to hogs. Got some hazle-nuts in the wild grounds. 
 Larger than the English : and much about the same taste. 
 
 31. Fine hot day. Prodigious deics. 
 
 September. 
 1 & 2. Fine and hot. 
 
 3, Famously hot. Fine breezes. Began imitating 
 the Disciples, at least in their diet; for, to-day, we be- 
 gan ^^ plucking the ears of corn" in a patch planted in 
 the garden on the second of June. But, we, in imitation 
 of Pindar's pilgrim, take the liberty to boil our Com. 
 We shall not starve now. 
 
 4, Fine and hot. 83 degrees under the Locust-trees. 
 
 5, Very hot indeed, but lair, with our old breeze. 
 
 6, 7, & 8. Same weather. 
 
 9. Rather hotter. We, amongst seven of us, eat 
 about 25 ears of Corn a-day. With me it wholly sup- 
 phes the place of bread. It is the choicest gift of God 
 to man, in the way of food. I remember, that Arthur 
 Young observes, that the proof oiagood climate is, that 
 Indian Corn comes to perfection in it. Our Corn is 
 very fine. I believe, that a wine-glass full of milk 
 might be squeezed out of one ear. No wonder the Dis- 
 ciples were tempted to pluck it when they were hun- 
 gry, though it Mas on the Sabbath day ! 
 
 10. Appearances for rain; and, it is time; for my 
 neighbours begin to cry out, and our rain-water cistern 
 begins to shrink. The well is there, to be sure ; but, to 
 pull up water from 70 feet is no joke, while it requires 
 nearly as much sweat to get it up, as we get water. 
 
 11. No rain ; but cloudy. 83 degrees in the shade. 
 
 12. Rain and very hot in the morning. Thunder 
 and heavy rain at night. 
 
 13. Cloudy and cool. Only 55 degrees in shade. 
 
 14. Cloudy and c«ol. 
 
 15. Fair and cooL Madeajire to write by. Don't 
 like this Meather. 
 
 16. Rain, warm. 
 
 17. Beautiful day. Not very hot. Just like a fine 
 day in July in England after a rain.
 
 16 JouRXAL. — October. [Part I. 
 
 18. Same weather. Wear stockings now and a 
 waistcoat and neck-handkerchief. 
 
 19. Same weather. Finished our Indian Corn, 
 which, on less than 4 rods, or perches, of ground, pro- 
 duced 447 ears. It was singularly well cultivated. It 
 was the long yellow Corn. Seed given me by my 
 excellent neighbour, Mr. John Tredwell. 
 
 20. 21, & 22. Same weather. 
 
 23. Cloudy and hotter. 
 
 24. Fine rain all last night and until ten o'clock 
 to-day. 
 
 25. Beautiful daj'. 
 
 26. Same weather. 70 degrees in shade. Hot as 
 the hot days in August in England. 
 
 27. Rain all last night. 
 
 28. Very fine and warm. Left off the stockings 
 again. 
 
 29. Very fine, 70 degrees in shade. 
 
 30. Same weather. 
 
 October. 
 
 . 1. Same weather. Fresh meat keeps pretty well 
 now. 
 
 2. Very fine; but, there was a little frost this morn- 
 ing, which did not, however, affect the late-sown Kid- 
 7ietf Beans, which are as tender as the cucumber plant. 
 
 3. Cloudy and warm. 
 
 4. Very fine and Avarm, 70 degrees in shade. The 
 apples are very fine. We are now cutting them and 
 quinces, to drt/ for winter use. My neighbours give me 
 quinces. We are also cutting up and drving peeches. 
 
 5. Very fine and warm. Dwarf Kidney beans very 
 fine. 
 
 6. Very fine and warm. Cutting Biickichcat. 
 
 7. Very fine and warm. 65 degrees in shade at 7 
 o'clock this morning. Windy in the afternoon. The 
 wind is knocking down the fall-pipins for us. One 
 picked up to-day weighed 12^ ounces avoirdupois 
 ■weight. The average weight is about 9 ounces, or, 
 perhaps, 10 ounces. This is the finest of all apples. 
 Hardly any core. Some none at all. The richness of 
 (he pine-apple -vsithout the roughness. If the Kin"
 
 Chap. I.] Journal. — October. 17 
 
 could have seen one of these in a dumpling ! This is not 
 the Newtoicn Pippin, which is sent to England in such 
 quantities. That is a winter apple. Very fine at Christ- 
 mas ; but far inferior to this fall-pippin, taking them both 
 in their state of perfection. It is useless to send the 
 trees to England, unless the heat of the sun and the rains 
 and the dews could be sent along with the trees. 
 
 8. Very fine, 68 in shade. 
 
 9. Same weather. 
 
 10. Same weather, 59 degrees in shade. A little 
 white frost this morning. It just touched the tips of the 
 kidney bean leaves ; but, not those of the cucumbers or 
 melons, which are near fences. 
 
 11. Beautiful day. 61 degrees in shade. Have not 
 put on a coat yet. Wear thin stockings, or socks, 
 Maistcoat with sleeves, and neckcloth. In New York 
 market, Kidneij Beans and Green peas. 
 
 12. Beautiful day. 70 degrees in shade. 
 
 13. Same weather. 
 
 14. Rain. 50 degrees in shade. Like a fine, warm, 
 June rain in England. 
 
 15. Beautiful day. 5G degrees in shade. Here is a, 
 month of October! 
 
 16. Same weather. 51 degrees in shade. 
 
 17. Same weather, but a little warmer in the day. A 
 smart frost this morning. The kidney beans, cucumber 
 and melon-plants, pretty much cut by it. 
 
 18. A little rain in the night. A most beautiful day. 
 54 degrees in shade. A June day for England. 
 
 19. A very uhite frost this morning. Kidney beans, 
 cucumbers, melons, all demohshed; but a beautiful 
 day. 56 degrees in shade. 
 
 20. Another frost, and just such another day. Thresh- 
 iug Buckxi-kcat in field. 
 
 21. No frost. 58 degrees in shade. 
 
 22. Finest of English June days. 67 degrees in 
 shade. 
 
 23. Beautiful day. 70 degrees in shade. Very few 
 summers in England that have a day hotter than this. 
 It is this fine sun that makes the fine apples. 
 
 24. Same weatiier precisely. Finished Buckwheat 
 threshing and winnowing. The men have been away
 
 18 JouBNAL.— November. [Part I. 
 
 at a horse-race ; so that it has laid out in the field, partly 
 threshed and partly not, for five days. If rain had 
 come, it would have been of no consequence. All would 
 have been dry again directly afterwards. What a 
 stew a man would be in, in England, if he had his 
 grain lying about out of doors in this way! The cost of 
 threshing and winnowing 60 bushels was 7 dollars, 
 1/. lis. 6rf. English money, that is to say, 4s. a quarter, 
 or eight Winchester bushels. But, then, the carting 
 was next to nothing. Therefore, though the labourers 
 had a dollar a-daij each, the expense upon the whole, 
 was not so great as it would have been in England. So 
 much does the climate do ! 
 
 25. Rain. A warm rain, like a fine June rain in 
 England. 57 degrees in shade. The late frosts have 
 killed, or, at least, pinched the leaves of the trees ; and 
 they are now red, yellow, russet, brown, or of a dying 
 green. Never was any thing so beautiful as the bright 
 sun, shining through these fine lofty trees upon the gay 
 rerdure beneath. 
 
 26. Rain. W^arm. 58 degrees in shade. This is 
 .the general Indian Corn harvest. 
 
 27. Rain. Warm. 58 degrees in shade. Put on 
 coat, black hat and black shoes. 
 
 28. Fine day. 56 degrees in shade. Pulled up a 
 Fadish that weighed 12 pounds! 1 say twelve, and 
 measured 2 feet 5 inches round. From common Eng- 
 lish seed. 
 
 29. Very fine indeed. 
 
 30. Ver}' fine and warm. 
 
 31. Very fine. 54 degrees in shade. Gathered our 
 last lot of winter apples. 
 
 November. 
 
 1. Rain all the last night and all this day. 
 
 2. Rain still. 54 degrees in shade. Warm. Things 
 grow well. The grass very Jinc and luxuriant. 
 
 3. Very fine indeed. 56 in shade. Were it not for 
 the colour of the leaves of the trees, all would look like 
 June in England. 
 
 4. Very, very fine. Never saw such pleasant wea- 
 ther. Digging potatoes.
 
 Chap. I.] Journal. — November, 19 
 
 5. Same weather precisely. 
 
 6. A little cloudy, but warm. 
 
 7. Most beautiful weather! 63 degrees in shade. 
 N.B. This is November. 
 
 8. A little cloudy at night fall. 68 degrees in shade; 
 that is to say, English Su7nmer heat all but 7 degrees. 
 
 9 & 10. Very fine. 
 
 11. Very fine. When I got up this morning, I 
 found the therincnieter hanging on the Locust-trees, 
 dripping with dew, at 62 degrees. Left off my coat 
 again. 
 
 12. Same weather. 69 degrees in shade. 
 
 13. Beautiful day, but cooler. 
 
 14. Same weather. 50 degrees in shade. The 
 high-ways and paths as clean as a boarded floor ; that 
 is to say, from dirt or ynud. 
 
 15. Gentle rain. 53 in shade. Like a gentle rain in 
 May in England. 
 
 16. Gentle rain. Warm. 56 in shade. What a 
 November for an Englishman to see! My white tur- 
 nips have groAvn almost the Avhole of their growth in this 
 month. The Swedish, planted late, grow surprisingly 
 now, and have a luxuriancy of appearance exceeding 
 any thing of the kind I ever saw. We have fine leaved 
 lettuces ; endive, young onions, young radishes, cauli- 
 flowers, with heads five inches over. The rye-fields 
 grow beautifully. They have beenybocZ for ca^//e for a 
 month, or six weeks, past. 
 
 17. Cloudy. Warm, 
 
 18. Same weather, 55 degrees in shade, 
 
 19. Frost, and the ground pretty hard, 
 
 20. Very fine indeed. Warm. 55 degrees in shade, 
 
 21. Same weather, 
 
 22. Cold, damp air, and cloudy. 
 
 23. Smart frost at night. 
 
 24. 25, 26, & 27, Same. Warm in the day- 
 time, 
 
 28 & 29, Same ; but more warm in the day, 
 30. Fine warm and beautiful day ; no frost at night. 
 57 degrees in shade.
 
 20 Journal. — December. [Part I. 
 
 December. 
 
 1. Same weather precisely ; but, we begin to fear 
 the setting-in ol" winter, and I am very busy in covering 
 up cabbages, mangel wurzel, turnips, beets, carrots, 
 parsnips, parsley, &c. the mode of doing which (not less 
 vseful in England than here, though not so indis- 
 pensably necessary) shall be described when I come to 
 speak of the management of these several plants. 
 
 2. Fine warm rain. 56 in shade, 
 
 3. 4, 5, 6, 7, Si. 8. Very lair and pleasant, but frost 
 sufficiently hard to put a stop to our getting up and 
 stacking turnips. Still, however, the cattle and sheep 
 do pretty well upon the grass which is long and dead. 
 Fatting oxen we feed with the greens of Ruta Baga, with 
 some corn (Indian, mind) tossed down to them in the 
 ear. Sheep (ewes that had lambs in spring) we kill 
 very fat from the grass. No dirt. What a clean and 
 convenient soil! 
 
 9. Thaw. No rain. We get on with our work again. 
 
 10. Open mild weather. 
 
 1 1 . Same weather. Very pleasant. 
 
 12. Rain began last night. 
 
 13. Rain all day. 
 
 14. Rain all day. The old Indian remark is, that 
 the winter does not set in till the ponds be full. It is 
 coming, then. 
 
 15. Rain till 2 o'clock. We kill mutton now. Ewes 
 brought from Connecticut, and sold to me here at 2 
 dollars each in July, just after shearing. I sell them 
 now alive at 3 dollars each irom the grass. Killed and 
 sent to market; they leave me the loose fat for candles, 
 and fetch about 3 dollars and a quarter besides. 
 
 16. Sharp North West v^^ind. This is the cold Ame- 
 rican Wi7id. " A North Wester" means all that can be 
 imagined of clear in summer and cold in ivinter. I 
 remember hearing from that venerable and excellent 
 man, Mr. Baron Maseres, a very elegant eulogium 
 on the Summer North Wester, in England, This is the 
 only public servant that I ever heard of, who refused a 
 proffered aufftnentatioji ofsalarij!
 
 Chap. 1.] Jo t'BNAL.— December, 21 
 
 17. Ahardish frost. 
 
 18. Open weather again. 
 
 19. Fine mild dav; but began freezing at night- 
 fall. 
 
 20. Hard frost. 
 
 21. Very sharp indeed. Thermometer down to 10 
 degrees ; that is to say, 22 degrees colder than barely 
 freezing. 
 
 22. Same weather. Makes us run, where we used 
 to walk in the fall, and to saunter in the summer. It is 
 no new thing to mc ; but it makes our other English peo- 
 ple shrug up their shoulders. 
 
 23. Frost greatly abated. Stones show for wet. 
 It will come, in spite of all the fine serene sky, which 
 Me now see. 
 
 24. A thaw. Servants made a lot of candles from 
 mutton and beef fat, reserving the coarser parts to make 
 soap. 
 
 25. Rain. Had some English friends. Sirloin of 
 o^Mi beef. Spent the evening in light of oxen candles, 
 as handsome as I ever saw, and, I think, the very best 
 I ever saw. The reason is, that the tallow h fresh, and 
 that it is unmixed with grease, which, and staleness, is 
 the cause, I beheve, of candles running, and plaguing 
 us while we are using them. "What an injury is it to 
 the farmers in England, that they dare not, in this way, 
 use their own produce : Is it not a ynnckerg to call a man 
 free, who no more dares turn out his tallow into can- 
 dles for his own use, than he dares rob upon the high- 
 way ? Yet, it is only by means of tyranny and extor- 
 tion like this, that the helhsh system of Funding and of 
 Seat-selling can be upheld. 
 
 26. Fine warm day. 52 degrees in shade. 
 
 27. Cold, but little frost. 
 
 28. Same weather. Fair and pleasant. The late 
 sharp frost has changed to a complete yelloic every leaf 
 of some Swedish Turnips (Ruta Baga), left to take 
 their chance. It is a poor chance, I believe I 
 
 29. Same weather. 
 
 30. Rain all day. 
 
 31. Mild and clear. Xo frost.
 
 22 Journal.— January. [Parti. 
 
 1818. January. 
 
 1 & 2. Same weather. 
 
 3. Heavy rain. 
 
 4. A frost that makes us jump and skip about like 
 larks. Very seasonable tor a sluggish fellow. Pre- 
 pared for winter. Patched up a boarded building, 
 which was formerly a coach-house ; but, which is not so 
 necessary to me, in that capacity, as in that of a. fowl- 
 house. The neighbours tell me, that the poultry will 
 roost out on the trees all the winter, which, the weather 
 being so dry in winter, is very likely ; and, indeed, they 
 must, if they have no house, which is almost universally 
 the case. However, I mean to give the poor things a 
 choice. I have lined the said coach-house with corn- 
 stalks and leaves of trees, and have tacked up cedar- 
 boughs to hold the lining to the boards, and have laid 
 a bed of leaves a foot thick all over the floor. I have 
 secured all against dogs, and have made ladders for the 
 fowls to go in at holes six feet from the ground. 1 have 
 made pig-styes, lined round with cedar-boughs and well 
 covered. A sheep-yard, for a score of ewes to have 
 lambs in spring, surrounded with a hedge of cedar- 
 boughs, and with a shed for the ewes to lie under, if they 
 like. The oxen and cows are tied up in a stall. The 
 dogs have a place, well covered, and lined with corn- 
 stalks and leaves. And now, I can, without anxiety, 
 sit by the fire, or lie in bed, and hear the North- Wester 
 whistle. 
 
 5. Frost. Like what we call *' a hard frost" in 
 England. 
 
 6. Such another frost at night, but a thaw in the 
 middle of the day, 
 
 7. Little frost. Fine warm day. The sun seems 
 loth to quit us. 
 
 8. Same weather. 
 
 9. A harder frost, and snow at night. The fowls, 
 which have been peeping at my ladders for two or three 
 evenings, and partially roosting in their house, made their 
 general entry this evening! They are the best judges 
 of what is best for them. The turkeys boldly set the
 
 Chap. I.] JouBNAL.— January. 23 
 
 weather at defiance, and still roost on the top, the ridge, 
 of the roof, of the house. Their feathers prevent their 
 legs i'rom being frozen, and so it is with all poultry ; 
 but, still, a house must, one would think, be better than 
 the open air at this season. 
 
 10. Snow, but sloppy. I am now at New York on 
 my way to Pennsylvania. N. B. This journey into 
 Pennsylvania had, for its principal object, an appeal to 
 the justice of the Legislature of that state for redress for 
 great loss and injury sustained by me, nearly twenty 
 years ago, in consequence of the tyranny of one 
 M'Kean, who was then the Chief Justice of that State. 
 The appeal has not yet been successful ; but, as I con- 
 fidently expect, that it finally will, I shall not, at pre- 
 sent, say any thing more on the subject. My journey 
 was productive of much and various observation, and, I 
 trust, of useful knowledge. But, in this place, I shall 
 do little more than give an account of the weather ; re- 
 serving for the Second Part, accounts of prices of 
 land, &c. which will there come under their proper 
 heads. 
 
 11. Frost but not hard. Now at New York. 
 
 12. Very sharp frost. Set off for Philadelphia. 
 Broke down on the road in New Jersey. 
 
 13. Very hard frost still. Found the Delaware, 
 which divides New Jersey from Pennsylvania, frozen 
 over. Good roads now. Arrived at Philadelphia in 
 the evening. 
 
 J 4. Same whether. 
 
 15. Same weather. The question eagerly put to me 
 by every one in Philadelphia is, " Don't you think the 
 " city greatly improved?" They seem to me to con- 
 found augmentation with improvement. It always was 
 a fine city, since I first knew it ; and it is very greatly 
 augmented. It has, I believe, nearly doubled its ex- 
 tent and number of houses since the year 1799. But, 
 after being, for so long a time, familiar with London, 
 every other place appears little. After living within a 
 few hundreds of yards of Westminster-Hall and the 
 Abbey Church and the Bridge, and looking from my 
 own windows into St. James's Park, all other buildings 
 and spots appear mean and insignificant. I went to
 
 24 Journal .-JANUARY. [Part I. 
 
 day to see the house I formerly occupied. How small ! 
 It is always thus: the words large aud small are car- 
 ried about Avith us in our minds, and we forget real 
 dimensions. The idea, such as it was received, remains 
 during our absence Irom the object. When I returned 
 to England, in 1800, after an ai3sence from the country 
 parts of it, of sixteen years, the trees, the hedges, even 
 the parks and woods, seemed so small! It made me 
 laugh to hear little gutters, that I could jump over, 
 called Rivers! The Thames Mas but a ''Creek!" 
 But, when, in about a month after my arrival in London, 
 I went to Farnham, the place of my birth, Avhat was my 
 surprise! Every thing was become so pitifully swjoZ// I 
 had to cross, in my post-chaise, the long and dreary heath 
 of Bagshot. Then, at the end of it, to mount a hill, called 
 Hungry Hill ; and from that hill I knew that I should 
 look down into the beautiful and fertile vale of Fam- 
 ham. 3Iy heart fluttered with impatience, mixed Mith 
 a sort of fear, to see all the scenes of mv childhood ; 
 for I had leanit before, tlie death of niy lather and 
 mother. There is a hill, not far from the town, called 
 Crooksbury Hill, which rises up out of a flat, in the 
 form of a cone, and is planted with Scotch fir-trees. 
 Here I used to take the eggs and young ones of crows 
 and magpies. This hill Mas a famous object in the 
 neighbourhood. It served as the superlative degree of 
 height. " ^5 high as Crooksburi/ Hill" meant, with us, 
 the utmost degree of height. Therefore, the first object 
 that my eyes sought was this hill. / could not believe 
 my eyes! Literally speaking, I for a moment, thought 
 the famous hill removed, and a little heap put in its 
 stead ; for I had seen in New Brunswick, a single rock, 
 or hill of solid rock, ten times as big, and four or five 
 times as high! The post-boy, going down hill, and not 
 a bad road, whisked me, in a few minutes to the Bush 
 Inn, from the garden of which I could see the prodi- 
 gious sand hill, where I had begun my gardening works. 
 What a nothing! But now came rushing into my 
 mind, all at once, my pretty little garden, my little blue 
 smock-frock, my little nailed shoes, my pretty pigeons 
 that I used to feed out of my hands, the last kind words 
 aiid tears of my gentle aud tender-hearted and affec- 
 
 w
 
 Chap. I.] JoUKXAL.— January. 25 
 
 tionate mother! I hastened back into the room. If I had 
 looked a moment longer, I should have dropped. When 
 I came to reflect, what a change! 1 looked do^^^l at 
 my dress. What a change ! What scenes I had gone 
 t'nrough ! How altered my state ! I liad dined the day 
 before at a Secretary of State's in company ^Wth Mr. 
 Pitt, and had been waited upon by men in gaudy live- 
 ries ! I had had nobody to assist me in the world. 
 No teachers of any sort. Nobody to shelter me from 
 the consequence of bad, and no one to counsel me to 
 good, behaviour. I felt proud. The distinctions of 
 rank, birth, and wealth, all became nothing in my eyes ; 
 and from that moment (less than a month after my 
 arrival in England) I resolved never to bend before 
 them. 
 
 10. Same veather. Went to see my old Quaker- 
 friends at Bustleton, and particularly my beloved friend 
 James Paul, who is ver\ ill. 
 
 17. Returned to Philadelphia. Little frost and a 
 little snow. 
 
 18, 19, 20&21. Moderate frost. Fine clear skj-. 
 The Philadelphians are cleanly, a quality which they 
 owe chiefly to the Quakers. But, after being long and 
 recently familiar with the towns in Surrey and Hamp- 
 shire, and especially with Guildford, Alton, and South- 
 ampton, no other towns appear clean and neat, not even 
 Bath or Salisbury, which last is much about upon a par, 
 in point of cleanliness, with Philadelphia ; and, Salis- 
 bury is deemed a very cleanly place. Blandford and 
 Dorchester are clean ; but, I have never yet seen any 
 thing like the towns in Surrey and Hampshire. If a 
 Frenchman, born and bred, could be taken up and car- 
 ried blindfold to Guildford, I wonder what his sensations 
 would be, when he came to have the use of his sight ! 
 Every thing near Guildford seems to have received an 
 influence from the town. Hedges, gates, stiles, gar- 
 dens, houses inside and out, and the dresses of the peo- 
 ple. The market day at Guildford is a perfect show of 
 cleanliness. Not even a carter without a clean smock- 
 frock and closely-shaven and clean-washed face. Well 
 may Mr. Birkbeck, who came from this very spot, think 
 the people dirty in the western country ! I'll engage
 
 26 Journal. — January. [Part I. 
 
 he finds more dirt upon the necks and faces of one 
 family of his present neighbours, than he left behind 
 hira upon the skins of all the people in the three parishes 
 of Guildford. However, he would not have found this 
 to be the case in Pennsylvania, and especially in those 
 parts Avhere the Quakers abound ; and, 1 am told, that, 
 in the New England States, the people are as cleanly 
 and as neat as they are in England. The sweetest 
 flowers, when they become putrid, stink the most; and, 
 a nasty woman is the nastiest thing in nature. 
 
 22. Hard frost. My hiisiiiess in Pennsylvania is vrith 
 the legislature. It is sitting at Harrisbwgh. Set off 
 to-day by fetage. Fine country ; fine barns; fine farms. 
 Must speak particula,rly of these in another place. Got 
 to Lancaster. The largest inland town in the United 
 States. A very clean and good town. No beggarly 
 houses. All looks like ease and plenty. 
 
 23. Harder frost, but not very severe. Almost a? 
 cold as the weather was during the six weeks' conti- 
 nuance of the snow, in 1814, in England. 
 
 24. The same weather continues. 
 
 25. A sort of half thaw. Sun warm. HARRiSBURcrf 
 is a new town, close on the left bank of the river Sus- 
 QUBnAxxAH,which is not frozen over.but has large quan- 
 tities of ice floating on its waters. All vegetation, and all 
 appearance of green, gone away, 
 
 26. Mild weather. Hardly any frost. 
 
 27. Thaws. Warm. Tired to death of the tavern 
 at Harrtsburgu, though a very good one. The cloth 
 spread three times a day. Fish, fowl, meat, cakes, eggs, 
 sausages ; all sorts of things in abundance. Board, 
 lodging, civil but not servile waiting on, beer, tea, 
 coffee, chocolate. Price, a dollar and a quarter a day. 
 Here vre meet altogether: senators, judges, lawyers, 
 tradesmen, farmers, and all. 1 am weary of the ever- 
 lasting loads of meat. Weary of being idle. How few 
 such days have I spent in my whole life ! 
 
 28. Thaw and rain. My business not coming on, I 
 went to a country tavern, hoping there to get a room to 
 myself, in which to read my English papers, and sit 
 down to Avriting. I am now at M' Allister's tavern, si- 
 tuated at the foot of the first ridge of mountains j or
 
 Chap. I] Journal. — February. 27 
 
 rather, upon a little nook of land, close to the river, 
 where the river has found a way through a break in the 
 chain of mountains. Great enjoyment here. Sit and 
 read and write. My mind is again in England. Mrs. 
 M'Allister just suits me. Does not pester me with 
 questions. Does not cram me with meat. Lets me eat 
 and drink what I like, and when I like, and gives mugs 
 of nice milk. I find, here, a very agreeable and in- 
 structive occasional companion, in Mr. M'Allister the 
 elder. But, of the various useful information, that 1 
 received from him, I must speak in the Second Part 
 of this work. 
 
 29. Very hard frost this morning. Change very 
 sudden. All about the house a glare of ice. 
 
 30. Not so hard. Icicles on the trees on the neigh- 
 bouring mountains like %o many millions of sparkling 
 atones, when the sun shines, which is all the day. 
 
 31. Same weather. Two farmers of Lycoming county 
 had heard that William Cobbett was here. They mo- 
 destly introduced themselves. What a contrast with 
 the " yeomanry cavalry!" 
 
 February. 
 
 1 & 2, Same weather. About the same as a *' hard 
 frost " in England. 
 
 3. Snow. 
 
 4. Little snow. Not much frost. This day, thirty- 
 three years ago, I enlisted as a soldier. 1 always keep 
 the day in recollection. 
 
 5. Having been to Harrisburgh on the second, re- 
 turned to M'AUister's to-day in a sleigh. The River 
 begins to be frozen over. It is about a mile wide. 
 
 6. Little snow again, and hardish frost. 
 
 7. Now and then a little snow. — Talk with some hop- 
 growers. Prodigious crops in this neighbourhood ; but, 
 of them in the Skcond Part. What would a Farnham 
 man think of thirty hundred weight of hops upon fo^ir 
 hundred hills, ploughed between, and the ground vines 
 
 fed off by sheep ! This is a very curious and interest- 
 ing matter. 
 
 8. A real Frost. 
 
 C2
 
 28 JotTBNAL. — February, [Part I. 
 
 9. Sharper. They say, that the thermometer is down 
 to 10 degrees beloiv notiyht. 
 
 10. A little milder ; but very cold indeed. The River 
 completely frozen over, and sleighs and foot passengers 
 crossing in all directions. 
 
 1 1. AVent back again to Harrisbnrgh, Mild frost. 
 
 12. Not being able to bear the idea of dancing at- 
 tendance, came to Lancaster, in order to see more of 
 this pretty town. A very fine Tavern (Slaymaker's) ; 
 room to myself; excellent accommodations. Warm 
 fires. Good and clean beds. Civil but not servile, 
 landlord. The eating still more overdone than at Har- 
 risburgh. Never saw such profusion. 1 have made a 
 bargain with the landlord : he is to give me a dish of 
 chocolate a da}"^, instead of dinner. Frost, but mild. 
 
 13. Rain. — A real rain, but rather cold. 
 
 14. A complete day of rain. 
 
 15. A hard frost ; much about like a hard frost in the 
 naked parts of Wiltshire. — Mr. Huljie joined me on 
 his vpay to Philadelphia from the city of Washington. 
 
 16. A hard frost. — Lancaster is a pretty place. No 
 Jiiie buildings ; but no ?neau ones. Nothing splendid 
 
 and nothing beggarly. The people of this towTi seem to 
 have had the prayer of Hagar granted them : " Give 
 me, O Lord, neidier poverty nor riches." Here are 
 none of those poor, wretched habitations, which sicken 
 the sight at the out-skirts of cities and towns in England ; 
 those abodes of the poor creatures, who have been 
 reduced to beggai'y by the cruel extortions of the rich 
 and powerful, xlnd, this remark applies to all the towns 
 of America that I have ever seen. This is a fine part 
 of America. Big Barns, and modest dw elling houses. 
 Barns of sf one, a hnndred feet long a.\\d forty icide, with 
 two floors, and raised roads to go into them, so that the 
 wagons go into the Jirst floor ttp-stairs. Below are 
 stables, stalls, pens, and all sorts of conveniences. Up- 
 stairs are rooms for threshed corn and grain ; for tackle, 
 for meal, for all sorts of things. In the front (South) of 
 the barn is the cattle yard. These are very fine build- 
 ings. And, then, all about them looks so comfortable, 
 and gives such manifest proofs of ease, plenty, and hap- 
 piness I 3uch is the country of William Pen.n's set-
 
 I 
 
 Chap. I.] Journal.— February. 29 
 
 tling ! It is a curious thing to observe the far m-kmises 
 in this country. They consist, almost without excep- 
 tion, of a considerably large and a very neat house, 
 with sash windows, and of a small house, which seems 
 to have been tacked on to the large one ; and, the pro- 
 portion they bear to each other, in point of dimensions, 
 is, as nearly as possible, the proportion of size betweea 
 a Cow and her Calf, the latter a month old. But, as 
 to the cause, the process has been the opposite of this 
 instance of the works of nature, ibr, it is the larye house 
 which has groU'ii out of the small one. The lather, or 
 grandfather, while he was toiling for his children, lived 
 in the small house, constructed chiefly by himself, and 
 consisting of rude materials. The means, accumulated 
 in tlie small house, enabled a son to rear the large one ; 
 and, though, when pride enters the door, the small house 
 is sometimes demolished, few sons in America have the 
 folly or want of feehng to commit such acts of filial ingra- 
 titude, and of real self-abasement. For, what inheri- 
 tance so valuable and so honourable can a son enjoy as 
 the proofs of his father's industry and virtue? The 
 progress of wealth and ease and enjo_)inent, evinced by 
 this regular increase of the size of the farmer's dwell- 
 ings, is a spectacle, at once pleasing, in a very high 
 degree, in itself, and, in the same degree, it speaks the 
 praise of the system of government, under which it has 
 taken place. What a contrast with the form-houses in 
 England ! There the little farm-houses are falling into 
 ruins, or, are actually become cattle-sheds, or, at best, 
 cottages, as they are called, to contain a miserable 
 labourer, who ought t© have been a farmer, as his 
 grandfather was. Five or six larms are there nouy 
 levelled into one, in defiance of the laic ; for, there is a 
 law to prevent it. The fanner, has, indeed, a. fine 
 house ; but, what a life do his labourers lead ! The 
 cause of this sad change is to be found in the crushing 
 taxes; and the cause of them, in the Borough usurpation, 
 which has robbed the people of their best right, and, 
 indeed, without which right they can enjoy no other. 
 They talk of the augmented population of England; 
 and, when it suits the purposes of the tyrants, they boast 
 of this fact, as they are pleased to call it^ as a proof of
 
 30 Journal.— February. [Part 1. 
 
 the fostering nature of their government; though, just 
 now, they are preaching up the vile and foolish doctrine 
 of Parson Malthus, who thinks, that there are too 
 many people, and that they ought (those who labour, 
 at least) to be restrained from breeding so fast. But, 
 as to the feet, I do not believe it. There can be nothing in 
 the shape of proof ; for no actual enumeration was ever 
 taken till the year 1800. We know well, that London, 
 Blanchester, Birmingham, Bath, Portsmouth, Plymouth, 
 and all Lancashire and Yorkshire, and some other 
 counties, have got a vast increase of miserable be- 
 ings huddled together. But, look at Devonshire, So- 
 mersetshire, Dorsetshire, Wiltshire, Hampshire, and 
 other counties. You will there see hundreds of thou- 
 sb.7ids of acres of land, where the old marks of the plough 
 are visible, but which have not been cultivated for, per- 
 haps, half a century. You will there see places, that 
 were once considerable tovms and villages, now having, 
 within their ancient limits, nothing but a few cottages, 
 the Parsonage and a single Farm-house. It is a curious 
 and a melancholy sight, where an ancient church, 
 with its lofty spire or tower ; the church sufficient to 
 contain a thousand or two or three thousand of people 
 conveniently, now stands surrounded by a score or half 
 a score of miserable mud-houses, with floors of earth, 
 and covered with thatch ; and this sight strikes your eye 
 in all parts of the five Western counties of England. 
 Surely these churches were not built without the ex- 
 istence of a population somewhat proportionate to their 
 size ! Certainly not ; for the churches are of various 
 sizes, and, we sometimes see them very small indeed. 
 Let any man look at the sides of the hills in these coun- 
 ties, and also in Hampshire, M'here downs, or open 
 lands, prevail. He will there see, not only that those 
 hills were formerly cultivated ; but, that banks, from 
 distance to distance, were made by the spade, in order 
 to form little flats for the plough to go, without tumbling 
 the earth down the hill ; so that the side of a- hill 
 looks, in some sort, like the steps of a stairs. Was this 
 done without hands, and Avithout mouths to consume 
 the grain raised on the sides of these hills ? The Fund- 
 ins and Manufacturinsf and Commercial and Taxing
 
 Ctap. I.] Journal.— pEBRUAny. 31 
 
 System has, by drawinnj m ealth into great masses, drawn 
 men also into great masses. London, the manutkctiir- 
 ing places, Bath, and other places of dissipation, have, 
 indeed, wonderfully increased in popidation. Country 
 seats, Parks, Pleasure-gardens, have, in like degree, 
 increased in number and extent, xlnd, in just the same 
 proportion has been the increase of Poor-houses, Mad- 
 houses, and Jails. Kut, the people of Eiufland, such as 
 FoRTE.scuE described them, have been sicept away by 
 the ruthless hand of t!ie j:\i-istocracy, who, making their 
 approaches by slow degrees, have, at last, got into their 
 grasp the substance of the Avhole country. 
 
 17. Frost, not very hard. AVent back to Harris- 
 burgli. 
 
 18. Same weather. Very fine. Warm in the mid- 
 dle of the day. 
 
 19. Same weather. — Quitted Ilarrisburgh, very much 
 displeased; but, on this subject, I shall, if possible, 
 keep silence, till next year, and until the People of 
 Pennsylvania have had time to reflect ; to clearly un- 
 derstand my affair; and when they do understand it, I 
 am not at all afraid of receiving justice at their hands, 
 whether 1 am present or absent. Slept at Lancaster. 
 One night more in this very excellent Tavern. 
 
 20. Frost still. Arrived at Philadelphia along with 
 mv friend Hui.jie, Tiiey are roastiny an ox on the 
 Delaicare. The fooleries of England are copied here, 
 and every where in this countr> , with wonderful avi- 
 dity ; and, I wish I could say, tliat some of the vices 
 of our " higher orders," as tlicy luive the impudence to 
 call themselves, were not also imitated. However, I 
 look principally at the mass of farmers ; the sensible 
 and happy farmers of ibnerica. 
 
 21. Thaio and Rain. — The severe weather is over 
 for this year. 
 
 22. Thaw and Rain. A solid day of rain. 
 
 23. Little frost at night. Fine market. Fine meat 
 of all sorts. As fat vmtton as I ever saw. How mis- 
 taken Mr. Birkbeck is about American mutton ! 
 
 24. Same weather. Very fair days noAv. 
 
 25. Went to Bustleton with my old friend, Mr. John 
 Morgan.
 
 32 Journal — February^ [Part I. 
 
 26. Returned to Philadelphia. Roads very dirty 
 and heavy. 
 
 27. Complete thaiv ; but it will be long before 'the 
 frost be out of the ground. 
 
 28. Same weather. Very warm. I hate this wea- 
 ther. Hot upon my back, and melting ice under my 
 feet. The people (those who have been lazy) are 
 chopping aAvay with axes the ice, which has gro\vn out 
 of the snows and rains, before their doors, during the 
 winter. The hogs (best of scavengers) are very busy 
 in the streets seeking out the bones and bits of meat, 
 which have been flung out and frozen down amidst 
 water and snoAv, during the two foregoing months. I 
 raean including the present month. At New York (and, 
 I think, at Philadelphia also) they have corporation 
 laws to prevent hogs from being in the streets. For 
 what reaso7i, I know not, except putrid meat be plea- 
 sant to the smell of the inhabitants. But, Corporations 
 are seldom the wisest of laM^makers. It is argued, that, 
 if there were no hogs in the streets, people would not 
 throw out their orts of flesh and vegetables. Indeed ! 
 What would they do with those orts, then? Make their 
 hired servants eat them 1 The very proposition Avould 
 leave them to cook and wash for themselves. Where, 
 then, are they to fling these effects of superabundance ? 
 Just before I left Noav York for Philadelphia, I saw a 
 sow very comfortably dining upon a full quarter part of 
 what appeared to have been a. fine leg of mutton. Hoav 
 many a family in England woidd, if within reach, have 
 seized this meat from the sow ! And, are the tyrants, 
 who have brought my industrious countrymen to that 
 horrid state of misery, never to be called to account J 
 Are they alicays to carry it as they now do 1 Every 
 object almost, that strikes ray view, sends my mind 
 and heart back to England. In vie^ving the ease and 
 happiness of this people, the contrast fills my soul with 
 indignatioii, and makes it more and more tlie object of 
 my life to assist in the destruction of the diabolical 
 usurpation, which has trampled on king as well a« , 
 people.
 
 Chap. I.] [ Journal,— March. 33 
 
 March. 
 
 1. Rain. Dined with my old friend Severne, an 
 honest Norfolk man, who used to carry his milk about 
 the streets, when 1 first knew him, but, who is now a 
 man of considerable property, and, like a wise man, 
 lives in the same modest house where he formerly liAed. 
 Excellent roast beef and plum pudding. At his house 
 I found an Englishman, and from Botley too ! I had 
 been told of such a man being in Philadelphia, and 
 that the man said, that he had lieard of me, " heard of 
 such a gentleman, but did not know nmchoj him." This 
 was odd ! 1 was desirous of seeing this man. Mr. Se- 
 VERXE got him to his house, llis name is Vere. I 
 knew him the moment 1 saw him ; and, I wondered 
 ichy it was that he knew so little of me. I foinid, that 
 he ivanted tcork, and tlsat he had been assisted by some 
 society in Philadelphia. He said he was laine and he 
 might be a little, perhaps. I offered him work at once. 
 No : he wanted to have the care of a farm ! " Go," 
 said 1, " for shame, and ask some farmers for work. 
 " You will find it immediately, and Avith good wages, 
 *' What should the people in this country see in your 
 " face to induce them to keep you in idleness ] They did 
 " not send for you. You are a young man, and you come 
 " from a country of able labourers. You may be rich 
 " if you will Avork. This gentleman who is now about to 
 " cram you with roast beef and plum pudding came to 
 *' this city nearly as poor as you are ; and, I first came 
 " to this country in no better plight. Work, and I 
 " wish you well ; be idle, and you ought to starve." He 
 iold me, then, that he was a hoop-maker ; and yet, 
 observe, he wanted to have the care of a farm, 
 
 N. B. If this book should ever reach the hands of 
 Mr. Richard Hixxman, my excellent good friend of 
 Chilling, 1 beg him to show this note to Mr. Nicholas 
 Freemantle of Botley. He will know well all about 
 this Vere. Tell Mr. Freemantle, that the Spaniels 
 are beautiful, that Woodcocks breed here in abundance ; 
 and tell liim, above all, that 1 frequently think of him 
 as a pattern of industry in business, of skill and per- 
 severance and good humour as a sportsman, and of 
 C 5
 
 34 JoTfRNAL.— March. [Part. I. 
 
 Iionesty and kindness as a neighbour. Indeed, I have 
 ■pleasure in thinking of all my Botley neighbours, ex- 
 cept the Parson, who for their sakes, I wish, however, 
 was my neighbour noiv ; for here he might pursue his 
 calling very qxdetly. 
 
 2. Open weather. Went to Bustleton, after haying 
 seen Messrs. Stevens and Pendrill, and advised 
 them to forward to me affidavits of what they knew about 
 Oliver, the spy of the Boroughmongers. 
 
 3. Frost in the morning. Thaw in the day. 
 
 4. Same weather in the night. Rain all day. 
 
 5. Hard frost. Snow three inches deep. 
 
 6. Hard frost. About as cold as a hard frost in Ja- 
 nuary in England. 
 
 7. Same weather, 
 
 8. Thaw. Dry and fine. 
 
 9. Same weather. Took leave, I fear for ever, of 
 my old and kind friend, James Paul. His brother and 
 son promised to come and see me here. I have pledged 
 myself to transplant 10 acres of Indian Corn ; and, if 
 I write, in August, and say that it is good., Thomas 
 Paul has promised that he avjU come ; for, he thinks 
 that the scheme is a mad one. 
 
 10. Same weather. — Mr. Varee, a son-in-law of 
 Mr. James Paul, brought me yesterday to another son- 
 in-law's, Mr. Ezra Toavnshend at Bibery. Here I 
 am amongst the thick of the Quakers, whose houses and 
 families pleased me so much formerly, and which plea- 
 sure is all novv revived. Here all is ease, plenty, and 
 cheerfulness. These people are never giggling, and 
 never in loio-spirits. Their minds, like their dress, are 
 simple and strong. Their kindness is shown more in 
 acts than in words. Let others say what they will, I 
 have uniformly found those whom I have intimatel}' 
 known of this sect, sincere and upright men ; and I 
 verily believe, that all those charges of hypocrisy and 
 craft, that we hear against Quakers, arise from a feel- 
 ing of envy ; envy inspired by seeing them possessed of 
 such abundance of all those things, which are the fair 
 fruits of care, industry, e^conomy, sobriety and order, 
 ami which are justly forbidden to the drunkard, the 
 glutton, the prodigal, and the lazy. As the day of my
 
 Chap. I.] Jourxal.«-March. 35 
 
 coming to Mr. Townshend's had been announced be- 
 forehand, several of the young men, >vho were babies 
 ■when I used to be there formerly, came to see " Billy 
 CoBBKTT," of whom they had heard and read so much. 
 WTien I saw them and heard them, " What a contrast," 
 said I to myself, " with the senseless, gaudy, upstart, 
 " hectoring, insolent, and cruel Yeomanry Cavalry in 
 " England, who, while they grind their labourers into 
 " the revolt of stanation, gallantly sally fordi with their 
 " sabres, to chop them down at the command of a Se- 
 " cretary of State; and, who, the next moment, creep 
 " and fawn like spaniels before their Boroughmonger 
 "Landlords! " At Mr. Townshexd's I saw a man, in 
 his sen ice, lately from Yorkshire, but an Irishman 
 by birth, lie Avished to have an opportunity to see me. 
 He had read many oi'my " little books." I shook him 
 by the hand, told him he Iiad now got a good house over 
 his head and a kind employer, and advised him not to 
 vwve for one year, and to saAe his wages during that 
 \ear. 
 
 11. Same open weather. — I am now at Trenton, in 
 New Jersey, waiting for something to carry me on to- 
 wards New York. — Yesterday, Mr. Townshend sent 
 me on, under an escort of Quakers, to Mr. Anthony 
 Taylor's. He vvas formerly a merchant in Philadel- 
 phia, and now lives in his very pretty country-house, on 
 a very beautiful fann. He has some as fine and fat 
 oxen as we generally see at Sraithfield market in Lon- 
 don. I think they will weigh siity score each. Fine 
 farm yard. Every tiling belonging to the farm good, 
 but what a neglecttiil gardener ! Saw some u-hite thorns 
 here (brought from England) which, if I had wanted 
 any proof, would have clearly proved to me, that they 
 would, with less care, make as good hedges here as they 
 do at Farnham in Surrey. But in another Part, I 
 shall give full information upon this head. Here my es- 
 cort quitted me ; but, luckily, Mr. Newbold, who lives 
 about ten miles nearer Trenton than Mr. Taylor does, 
 brought me on to his house. He is a muc!i better gar- 
 dener, or, rather, to speak the truth, has succeeded a 
 better, whose example he has followed in part. But, 
 his farm yard and buildings ! This was a sight indeed !
 
 36 Journal.— March, [Part. I. 
 
 Forty head of horn-cattle in a yard, enclosed with a 
 stone wall ; and five hundred merino ewes, besides 
 young iambs, in the finest, most spacious, best contrived, 
 and most substantially built sheds 1 ever saw. The 
 barn surpassed all that I had seen before. His house 
 (large, commodious, and handsome) stands about two 
 hundred yards from the turnpike road, leading from 
 Philadelphia to New York, and looks on and over the 
 Delaware which runs parallel with the road, and has, 
 surrounding it, and at the back of it, five hundred acres 
 of land, level as a lawn, and two feet deep in loam, 
 that never requires a water furrow. This was the finest 
 sight that I ever saw as to farm-huildings and land. I 
 forgot to observe, that I saw in Mr. Taylor's service, 
 another man recently arrived from England. A York- 
 shire man. He, too, -wished to see me. He had got 
 some of my " little books," which he had preserved, 
 and brought out with him. Mr. Taylor was much 
 pleased with him. An active, smart man ; and, if he 
 follow my advice, to remain a year under one roof, and 
 save his wages, he will, in a few years, be a rich man. 
 These men must be brutes indeed not to be sensible of 
 the great kindness and gentleness and liberality, with 
 which they are treated. Mr. Taylor came, this morn- 
 ing, to Mr. Neavbold's, and brought me on to Tren- 
 ton. I am at the stage-tavern, where I have just dined 
 upon cold ham, cold veal, butter and cheese, and a 
 peach-pye ; nice clean room, well furnished, waiter 
 clean and attentive, plenty of milk ; and charge, a quar- 
 ter of a dollar! I thought, that Mrs. Joslin at Friuces- 
 town (as I went on to Philadelphia), Mrs. Benler at 
 Harrisburgh, Mr. Slaymakek at Lancaster, and Mrs. 
 M'Allister, wei'e low enough in all conscience ; but, 
 really, this charge of Mrs. Andi;rson beats all. I had 
 not the face to pay the waiter a quarter of a dollar ; 
 but gave him half a dollar, and fold him to keep the 
 change. He is a black man. He thanked me. But, 
 they never af;k for any thing. But, my vehicle is come, 
 and now I bid adieu to Trenton, which f should have 
 liked better, if I had not seen r;o many young fellows 
 lounging about the streets, and leaning against door- 
 posts, with quids of tobacco in their mouths, or segars
 
 chap I.] Journal. — March^ 37 
 
 stuck between their lips, and with dirty hands and 
 
 faces. Mr. Birkbeck's complaint, on this score, is per- 
 fectly just. 
 
 Brimsicick, New Jersey. Here I am, after a ride 
 of about 30 miles, since two o'clock, in what is called 
 a Jersey- waggon, through such mnd as I never saw 
 before. Up to the stock of the wheel ; and } et a pair 
 of very little horses have dragged us through it in the 
 space oi Jive hours. The best horses and driver, and 
 the worst roads I ever set my eyes on. This part of 
 Jersey is a sad spectacle, alter leaving the brightest of 
 all the bright parts of Penns% Ivania. My driver, who 
 is a tavern-keeper himself, would have i3een a very 
 pleasant companion, if he had not drunk so much spirits 
 on the road. This is the great misfortune of America ! 
 As we were going up a hill very slowly, I could per- 
 ceive him looking very hard at my cheeii for some time. 
 At last, he said : " I am wondering. Sir, to see you 
 " look so fresh and so young, considering what you 
 " have gone through in the world;" though I cannot 
 imagine how he had learnt who I was. " I'll tell you," 
 said I, " how I have contrived the thing. I rise early, 
 " go to bed early, eat sparingly, never drink any thing 
 " stronger than small beer, shave once a day, and wash 
 " my hands and face clean three times a day, at the very 
 " least." He said, that was too mvch to think of doing. 
 12. Warm and fair. Like an Engbshy/;si of 3Iay 
 in point of warmth. I got to ElizabeUi Town Point 
 through beds of mud. Twenty minutes too late for the 
 steam-boat. Have to wait here at the tavern till to- 
 morrow. Great mortification. Supped M'ith a Con- 
 necticut farmer, who was taking on his daughter to 
 Little York in Pennsylvania. The rest of his family he 
 took on in the fail. He has vnrjrated. His reasons 
 were these : he has five sons, the eldest 19 years of 
 age, and several daughters. Connecticut is thickly 
 settled. He has not the means to buy farms lor the 
 sons there. He, therefore, goes and gets cheap land 
 in Pemisylvania ; his sons v ill as.sist him to clear it ; 
 and, thus, they will have a lann each. To a man in 
 such circumstances, and " born witli an axe in one 
 *' hand, and a gun in the other," the western countries
 
 38 Journal.— "March, [Part I. 
 
 are desirable ; but not to English farmers, who have 
 great skill in fine cultivation, and who can purchase 
 near New York or Philadelphia. This Yankee (the 
 inhabitants of Connecticut, Rhode Island, Massa- 
 chusetts and New Hampshire, only, are called Yankees) 
 was about the age of Sir Fr.wcis Burdktt, and, if he 
 had been dressed in the usual clothes of Sir Francis, 
 would have passed for him. Features, hair, eyes, 
 height, malie, manner, look, hasty utterance at times, 
 musical voice, frank deportment, pleasant smile. All 
 the very fac-simile of him. I had some early York 
 cabbage-seed and some cauliflower-seed in my pocket, 
 which "had been sent me from London, in a letter, and 
 which had reached me at Harrisburgh. I cou'.d not 
 help giving him a little of each. 
 
 13. Same weather. A fine open day. Rather a 
 cold May-day for England. Came to New York bj 
 the steam-boat. Over to this island by another, took a 
 little light wagon, that whisked me home over roads as 
 dry and as smooth as gravel walks in an English 
 bishop's garden in the month of July. Great contrast 
 with the bottomless muds of New Jersey ! As I came 
 along, saw those fields of rye, which were so green in 
 December, noM' tchite. Not a single sprig of green on 
 the face of the earth. Found that my man had plouyh- 
 ed ten acres qfgrorind. The frost not quite clean out 
 of the ground. It has penetrated two feet eight inches. 
 The weather here has been nearly about the same as in 
 Pennsylvama ; only less snow, and less rain. 
 
 14. Open weather. Very fine. Not quite so warm. 
 
 15. Same weather. Young chickens. 1 hear of no 
 other in the neighbourhood. This is the eflfect of my 
 rearm fowl-home! The house has been supplied with 
 eggs all the icinter, without any interruption, I am 
 told, that this has been the case at no other house here- 
 abouts. We have now an abundance of eggs. More 
 than a large family can consume. We send some to 
 market. The foMls, I find, have wanted no feeding 
 except during the snow, or, in the very, very cold days, 
 when they did not come out of their hojise all the dag. 
 A certain proof that they Idee the warmth. 
 
 16. Little frost in the morning. Very fine day.
 
 Chap. I.] Journal.— March. 39 
 
 17. Precisely same weather. 
 18 & 19, Same weather. 
 
 20. Sanie weather. Opened several pits, in which I 
 had presened all sorts of garden-plants and roots, and 
 apples. Valuable experiments. As useful in England 
 as here, though not so absolutely necessary. 1 shall 
 communicate these in another part of my work, under 
 the head of Gardening. 
 
 21. Same weather. The day like a fine May-day 
 in England. I am Amting without fire, and in my 
 waistcoat without coat. 
 
 22. Rain all last night, and all this day, 
 
 23. Mild and fine. A sow had a litter of pigs in the 
 leaves nnder the trees. Judge of the weather by this. 
 The wind blows cold; but, she has drawn together 
 great heaps of leaves, and protects her young ones with 
 surprising sagacity and exemplary care and fondness. 
 
 24. Same weather. 
 
 25. Still mild and fair, 
 
 2G. Very cold wind. We try to get the sow and 
 pigs into the buildings. But the pigs do not follow, and 
 we cannot, with all our temptations of corn and all our 
 caresses, get the sow to move without them by her side. 
 She must remain 'till they choose to travel. How does 
 nature, through the conduct of this animal, reproach 
 those mothers, who cast oil' their new-born infants to 
 depend on a hireling's breast! Let every young man, 
 before he marry, read, upon this subject, the pretty 
 poem of Mr. RoscoK, called "theNuRSK;" and, let 
 him also read, on the same subject, the eloquent, 
 beautiful, and soul-alTecting passage, in Rousseau's 
 " Einilc" 
 
 27. Fine warm day. Then high wind, rain, snoAv, 
 and hard frost before morning. 
 
 28. Hard frost. Snow 3 inches deep. 
 
 29. Frost in the night ; but, all thawed in the day, 
 and very warm. 
 
 30. Frost in niglit. Fine warm day. 
 
 31. Fine warm day. As the winter is now gone, let 
 us take a look back at its inconveniences compared with 
 those of an Enr/lish Winter. We have had three 
 months of it; for, if ■we had a few sharp days in De-
 
 40 JouKNAL. — MiLRCH. [Part I. 
 
 cember, we have had many very fine and without fire 
 in March. In England, winter really begins in No- 
 vember, and does not end 'till Mid-March. Here we 
 have greater cold; there, four times as much icct. I 
 have had my great coat on only twice, except when 
 sitting in a stage, travelling. I have had gloves on no 
 oftener ; for, 1 do not, like the Clerks of the House of 
 Boroughmongers, ivrite in gloves. I seldom meet a 
 wagoner with gloves or great coat on. It is generally 
 so dry. This is the great friend of man and beast. 
 Last summer I wrote home for nails to nail my shoes 
 for winter. I could find none here. What a foohsh 
 people, not to have shoe-nails ! I forgot, that it was 
 likel}^ that the absence of shoe-nails argued an absence 
 of the want of them. The nails are not come; and I 
 have not wanted them. There is no dirt, except for 
 about ten days at the breaking up of the frost. The 
 dress of a labourer does not cost half so much as in 
 England. This dryness is singularly favourable to all 
 animals. They are hurt far less by dry cold, than by 
 icarm drip, drip, drip, as it is in England. There has 
 been nothing grceji in the garden, that is to say, above 
 ground, since December ; but, Me have had, all win- 
 ter, and have now, ichite cabbages, green savoys, pai's- 
 nips, carrots, beets, young onions, radishes, white 
 turnips, Swedish turnips, and potatoes; and all these in 
 abundance (except radishes, Avhich were a few to try), 
 and always at hand at a minute's warning. The modes 
 of preserving will be given in another part of the work. 
 What can any body want more than these things in the 
 garden way ■? However, it would be very easy to add 
 to the catalogue. Apples, quinces, cherries, currants, 
 peaches, diicd in the Summer, and excellent for tarts 
 and pies. Apples in their raw state, as many as we 
 please. My oAvn stock being gone, I have trucked 
 turnips for apples ; and shall thus have them, if I 
 please, 'till apples come again on the trees. I give 
 two bushels and a half of Swedish turnips for one of 
 apples : and, mind, this is on the last day of March. 
 I have here statedy«cfs, whereby to judge of the winter ; 
 and I leave the English reader to judge for himself, I 
 myself decidedly preferring the American winter.
 
 Chap. I.] Journal. — ^April. 41 
 
 April. 
 
 I. Very fine and warm. 
 2 & 3. Same weather. 
 
 4. Rain all day. 
 
 5. Rain ^11 day. Our cistern and pool full. 
 
 6. Warm, but no sun. Turkeys begin to lay. 
 
 7. Same weather. My first spring operations in 
 gardening are now going on ; but 1 must reserve an ac- 
 count of them for another Part of my work. 
 
 8. Warm and fair. 
 
 9. Rain and rather cold. 
 
 10. Fair but cold. It rained but yesterday, and we 
 arc to-day feeding sheep and lambs with grain of corn, 
 and with oats, upon the yround in the orchard. Judge, 
 then, of the cleanness and convenience of this soil! 
 
 II. Fine and warm. 
 
 12 & 13. A\ arm and fair. 
 
 14. Drying -wind and miserably cold. Fires 
 again in day-time, which I have not had for some days 
 past. 
 
 15. Warm, like a fine Blay-day in England. We 
 are planting out selected roots for seed. 
 
 16. Rain all last night. Warm. Very fine in-. 
 deed. 
 
 17. Fine warm day. Heavy thunder and rain at 
 night. The Martins (not swallows) are come into the 
 bam and are looking out sites for the habitations of 
 their future young ones. 
 
 18. Cold and raw. Damp, too, which is extremely 
 rare. The worst day I have yet seen during the year. 
 Stops the grass, stops the swelling of the buds. The 
 young chickens hardly peep out from under the wings 
 of the hens. The lambs don't play, but stand knit up. 
 The pigs growl and srpieak ; and the birds are gone 
 away to the woods again. 
 
 19. Sam.e weather wth an Easterly wind. Just such 
 a wind as that, which, in March, brushes round the cor- 
 ners of the streets of London, and makes the old, 
 muffled-up debauchees hurry home with aching Joints. 
 Some hail to-day.
 
 42 Journal.— April. [Part I, 
 
 20. Same weather. Just the weather to give 
 drunkards the " blue devils." 
 
 21. Frost this morning. Ice as thick as a dollar. 
 Snow three times. Once to cover the ground. Went 
 otr again directly. 
 
 22. Frost and ice in, the morning. A very fine day, 
 but not warm. Dandelions blow. 
 
 23. Sharp Avhite frost in morning. Warm and fine 
 day. 
 
 24. Warm night, Avarm and fair day. And here I 
 close my Journal; for, I am in haste to get my manu- 
 script away ; and there now -wants only ten days to 
 complete the year. I resume, now, the Numbering of 
 my Paragraphs, having begun my Journal at the close 
 of Paragraph No. 20, 
 
 21. Let us, now, take a survey, or rather glance, at 
 the face, which nature now wears. The grass begins to 
 afibrd a good deal for sheep and for my grazing Eng- 
 lish pigs, and the cows and oxen get a little food from 
 it. The pears, apples, and other fruit-trees, have not 
 made much progress in the swelling or bursting of their 
 buds. The buds of the weeping- willow have Inirsted 
 (for, in spite of that conceited ass, Mr. James Perry, 
 to burst is a regular verb, and vulgar pedants only 
 make it irregular), and those of a Lilac, in a warm 
 place, are almost bursted, which is a great deal better 
 than to say, " almost burst." Oh, the coxcomb ! As 
 if an absolute pedagogue like him could injure me by 
 his criticisms! And, as if an error lilce this, even if it 
 had been one, could have any thing to do with my ca- 
 pacity for developing principles, and for siraplif}ing 
 things, which, in their nature, are of great complexity ! 
 The oaks, -which, in England, have now tlieir sap in 
 ftill flow, are here quite unmoved as yet. In the gar- 
 dens in general there is nothing green, while, in Eng- 
 land, they have broccoli to eat, early cabbages planted 
 out, coleworts to eat, peas four or five inches high. 
 Yet, we shall have green peas and loaved cabbages as 
 soon as they will. We have sproxiis li'om the cabbage- 
 stems preserved under cover; tlie Swedish turnip is 
 giving me greens from bulbs planted out in March; 
 and i have some broccoli too, just coming on for use.
 
 chap. I.] Journal.— April. 43 
 
 Hoiu I have got this broccoli I must explain in my 
 Gardener's Guide ; for write one I must. I never can 
 leave this country Avithout an attempt to make every 
 farmer a gardener. In the meat y>'Siy, we have beef, 
 mutton, bacon, foAvls, a calf to kill in a fortnif^ht's time, 
 sucking-pigs Mhen we choose, lamb nearly fit to kill ; 
 and all of our own breeding, or our omu feeding. We 
 kill an ox, send three quarters and the hide to market 
 and keep oue quarter. Then a sheep, which we use 
 in the same way. The bacon is alwa) s ready. Some 
 fowls alwajs fatting. Young ducks are just coming 
 out to meet the green peas. Chickens (the earliest) as 
 big as American Partridges (misnamed quails,) are 
 readv for the asparagus, which is just coming out of the 
 ground. Eggs at all times more than we can consume. 
 Arid, if there be any one, who wants better fare than 
 this, let the grumbling glutton come to that poverty, 
 Avhich Solomon has said shall be his lot. And, the 
 g}-cat thing of all, is, that here, evei-y man, even every 
 labourer, may live as well as thjs, if he will be sober 
 and i7idiistrious. 
 
 22. There are two things, which I have not yet men- 
 tioned, and which are almost wholly wanting here, 
 while they are so amply enjoyed in England. The 
 singing-birds and the Jioivers. Here are many birds 
 in summer, and some of very beautiful plumage. 
 There are some wild flowers, and some English (lowers 
 in the best gardens. But, generally speaking, they are 
 birds without song, and flowers without smell. The 
 li7inct (more than a tliousand of which I have heard 
 warbling upon one scrubbed oak on the sand-hills in 
 Surrey,) the shy-lark, the goldjinch, tlie wood-lark, the 
 nightingale, the bnll-Jinch, the black-bird, the thrush, 
 and all the rest of tlie singing tribe are wanting in these 
 beautifid woods and orchards of garlands. When these 
 latter have dropped their bloom, all is gone in the 
 floAvery May. No shepherd's rose, no honeg-suckle, 
 none of tliat endless variety of beauties that decorate 
 the hedges and the meadoMs in England. No daisies, 
 no p7-imroses, no couslips, no blue-bells, no daffodils, 
 which, as if it were not "enough ibr them to charm the 
 sight and the smell, must have names, too, to delight
 
 44 Journal. — April. [Part I. 
 
 the ear. All these are wanting in America. Here 
 are, indeed, birds, which bear the iiame of robin, black- 
 bird, thrush, and goldfinch; but, alas! the tiling at 
 Westminster has, in like manner, the name of parlia- 
 ment, and speaks the voice of ^he people, whom it pre- 
 tends to represent, in much about the same degree that 
 the black-bird here speaks the voice of its namesake in 
 England. 
 
 23. Of health, I have not yet spoken, and, though it 
 will be a subject of remark in another part of my work, 
 it is a matter of too deep interest to be Avholly passed 
 over here. In the first place, as to myself, 1 have 
 always had excellent health; but, during a year, in 
 England, I used to have a cold or two ; a trifling sore 
 throat; or something in that way. Here, 1 have 
 neither, though I was more than t\vo months of the 
 winter traAclling about, and sleeping in different beds. 
 My family have been more healthy than in England, 
 though, indeed, there has seldom been any serious ill- 
 ness in it. We have had but one visit from any 
 Doctor. Thus much, for the present, on this subject. 
 I said, in the second Register I sent home, that this 
 climate was not so good as that of England. Experi- 
 ence, observation, a careful attention to real facts, have 
 convinced me that it is, 7ipo7i the ivhole, a better cli- 
 mate ; though I tremble lest the tools of the Borough- 
 mongers should cite this as a new and most flagrant in- 
 stance of mco?<s/sfeHc?/. England is my country, and 
 to England I shall return. I like it best, and shall 
 alwa3s like it best; but, then, in the word England, 
 many things are included besides climate and soil and 
 seasons, and eating and drinkhig. 
 
 24. In the Second Part of this work, which Avill fol- 
 low the First Part in the course of two months, I shall 
 take particular pains to detail all that is within my 
 knowledge, which I think likely to be useful to persons 
 who intend coming to this country from England. I 
 shall take every particular of the expense of support- 
 ing a family, and show Avhat are the means to be ob- 
 tained for that purpose, and how they are to be 
 obtained. My intending to return to England ought 
 to deter no one from coming hither; because, J
 
 Cliap. J.] JouR.vAL. — April. 45 
 
 Avas resolved, If I had life, to return, and I expressed 
 that resolution before I came away. But, if there are 
 good and A-irtuous men, who can do no good tliere, and 
 who, by coming hither can withdraw the fruits of 
 their honest labour from the grasp of the Borough 
 tyrants, 1 am bound, if 1 speak of this country at all, 
 to tell them the real truth ; and this, as far as 1 have 
 gone, I have now done.
 
 40 RuTA Baga culture. [Part I. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 RUTA BAGA. 
 
 Culture, Modk of preserving, and uses of the 
 RuTA Bag A, sometimes called the Russia, and 
 
 SOMETIMES THE SwEDISH TuRNIP. 
 
 Description of the Plant. 
 
 25. It is ray intention, as notified in the public 
 papers, to put into print an account of all the experi- 
 ments, which I have made, and shall malie in Farming 
 and in Gardemng upon this Island. I, several years 
 ago, long before t>Tanny showed its present horrid front 
 in England, formed the design of sending out, to be pub- 
 lished in this country, a treatise on the cultivation of the 
 root and green crops, as cattle, sheep, and hog food. 
 This design was suggested by the reading of the fol- 
 lowing passage in Mr. Chancellor Livingston's 
 Essay on Sheep, which I received in 1812. After 
 having stated the most proper means to be employed 
 in order to keep sheep and lambs during the winter 
 months, he adds : " Having brought our flocks through 
 " the winter, we come now to the most critical season, that 
 " is, the latter end of March and the month of April. At 
 " this time the ground being bare, the sheep will refuse 
 " to eat their hay, while the scanty picking of grass, and
 
 Chap. II.J RuTA Baga culture. 47 
 
 " its purgative quality, Avill disable them from taking 
 '• the nourishment that is necessary to keep them up. 
 " If they fall away, their wool will be injured, and the 
 " growth of their lambs will be stopped, and even many 
 " of the old sheep will be carried off by the dysentery. 
 " To provide food for this season is very difficult. 
 " Turnips and Cabbages will rot, and bran they will 
 *' not eat, after having been fed on it all the Avinter. 
 " Potatoes, however, and the Swedisk Turnip, called 
 " Ruta Baf/a, may be usefully applied at this time, 
 " and so, 1 think, might Parsnips and Carrots. But, 
 " as few of us are in the habit of cultivating these 
 " plants to the extent which is necessary for the sup- 
 " port of a large flock, we must seek resources more 
 " within our reach." And then the Chancellor proceeds 
 to recommend the leaviiig the second growth of clover 
 uncut, in order to produce early shoots from sheltered 
 buds for the sheep to eat until the coming of the natural 
 grass and the general pasturage. 
 
 26. I was much surprised at reading this passage , 
 having observed, when I lived in Pennsylvania, how 
 prodigiously the root-crops of every kind flourished and 
 succeeded with only common skill and care ; and, in 
 1S15, having by that time had many crops of Ruta 
 Baga exceeding thirttf tons, or, about one thousand five 
 hundred heaped bushels to the acre, at Botley, 1 formed 
 the design of sending out to America a Treatise on the 
 Culture and Uses of that Root, which, I was perfectly 
 well convinced, could be raised with more ease here 
 than in England ; and, that it might be easily preserved 
 during the whole year, if necessary, I had proved in 
 many cases. 
 
 27. If Mr. CnANCELLOR Livingston, whose public- 
 spirit is manifested fully in his excellent little work, 
 which he modestly calls an Essay, could see my ewes 
 and lambs, and hogs and cattle, at this " critical sea- 
 sou" (I write on the 27th of March), with more Ruta 
 Baga at their command than they have mouths to 
 employ on it ; if he could see me, who am on a poor 
 exhausted piece of land, and who found it covered with 
 weeds and brambles in the month of June last, who 
 found uo manure, and who have brought none ; if he
 
 48 RuTA Baga culturk. [Part I. 
 
 could see me overstocked, not with mouths, but with 
 food, owing to a little care in the cultivation of this in- 
 valuable root, he would, I am sure, have reason to be 
 convinced, that, if any farmer in the United States is 
 in want of food at this pinching season of the year, the 
 fault is neither in the soil nor in the climate. 
 
 28. It is, therefore, of my mode of cultivating this 
 root on this Island that I mean, at present, to treat; 
 to whicli matter I shall add, in another Part of my 
 work, an account of my experiments as to the Maxgel. 
 WuRZEL, or Scarcity root ; though, as will be .seen, 
 I deem that root, except in particular cases, of very 
 inferior importance. The parsnip, the carrot, the cab- 
 bage, are all excellent in their kind and in their uses ; 
 but, as to these, I have not yet made, upon a scale 
 sufficiently large here, such experiments as would war- 
 rant me in speaking Avith any degree of confidence. Of 
 these, and other matters, I propose to treat in a future 
 Part, which I shall, probably, publish towards the lat- 
 ter end of this present year. 
 
 29. The Ruta Baga is a sort of turnip well known 
 in the State of Ncav York, Avhere, under the name of 
 Jiussia turnip, it is used for the Table from February 
 to July. But, as it may be more of a stranger in other 
 parts of the country, it seems necessary to give it 
 enough of description to enable every reader to distin- 
 guish it from every other sort of turnip. 
 
 30. The leaf of every other sort of turnip is of a 
 yellowish green, while the leaf of the Ruta Baga is of a 
 hlneish green, like the green of peas, when of nearly 
 their full size, or like the green of a young and thrifty 
 early Yorkshire cabbage. Hence it is, I suppose, that 
 some persons have called it the C'abbage-hirnip. But 
 the characteristics the most decidedly distinctive are 
 these : — that the outside of the bulb of the Ruta Baga is 
 of a greenish hue, mixed, towards the top, with a colour 
 bordering on a red, and, that the inside of the bulb, if 
 the sort be true and pure, is of a deep yellow, nearly as 
 deep as that of gold.
 
 Chap. II.] RuTA Baga culture. 4Q 
 
 Mode of saving and of prcservmg the Seed. 
 
 31. This is rather a nice business, and should be, by 
 no means, executed in a negligent manner. For, on 
 the well attending to this, much of the seed depends : 
 and, it is quite surprising how great losses are, in the 
 end, frequently sustained by the saving in this part of 
 the business, of an hour's labour or attention. I one 
 year lost more than half of what would have been an 
 immense crop, by a mere piece of negligence in my 
 bailiff as to the seed : and I caused a similar loss to a 
 gentleman in Berkshire, who had his seed out of the 
 same parcel that mine was taken from, and who had 
 sent many miles lor it, in order to have the best in 
 the world. 
 
 32. The Ruta Baga is ai^t to degenerate, if tJie seed 
 be not saved with care. We, in England, select the 
 plants to be saved for seed. We examine well to find 
 out those that run least into iieck and green. AVe reject 
 all such as approach at all towards a ichitish colour, 
 or Avhich are even of a greenish colour toicards the 7ieck, 
 where there ought to be a little reddish cast. 
 
 33. Having selected the plants with great care, we 
 take them up out of the place where they have grown, 
 and plant them in a plot distant from every thing of the 
 turni]) or cabbage kind which. is to bear seed. In this 
 Island, I am now, at this time, planting mine for seed 
 (27th March,) taking all our English precautions. If 
 is probable, that they would do very well, if taken out 
 of a heap to be transplanted, if well selected ; but, lest 
 this should not do well, I have kept my selected plants 
 all the M'inter in the ground in my garden, well covered 
 with corn-stalks and leaves from the trees ; and, indeed, 
 this is so very little a matter to do, that it would be 
 monstrous to suppose, that any farmer would neglect it 
 on account of the labour and trouble; especially Avhen 
 we consider, that the seed of two or three turnips is more 
 than sufficient to sow an acre of land. 1, on one occasion, 
 planted twenty turnips for seed, and the produce, be- 
 sides what the little birds took as their share for havina: 
 
 D
 
 50 RuTA Baga culture. [Part I. 
 
 kept down the caterpillars, was iicenty-tico and a half 
 pounds of clean seed. 
 
 34. The sun is so ardent and the weather so fair here, 
 compared with the chippy and chilly climate of Ene;- 
 land, while the birds here never touch this sort of seed, 
 that a small plot of ground would, if well managed, pro- 
 duce a great quantity of seed. WTiethev it would de- 
 fjeneratc is a matter that 1 have not ijct ascertained ; 
 but which I am about to ascertain this year. 
 
 3.5. That all tliese precautions of selecting the plants 
 and transplanting tiiem are necessary, 1 know by ex- 
 perience. I, on one occasion, had sown all my own 
 seed, and the plants had been carried off by the Jly, of 
 which I shall have to speak, presently. I sent to a per- 
 son who had raised some seed, which 1 afterwai'ds 
 foimd to ha^ e come from turnips, left promiscuously to 
 go to seed in a part of a field where they had been 
 sown. The consequence was, that a good t/iird part of 
 my crop had no hnlbs; but consisted of a sort of rape, 
 all leaves, and stalks gioM-ing very high. While even 
 the rest of the crop bore no resemblance, either in 
 point of size or of quality, to turnips, in the same field, 
 trom seed saved in a proper manner, though this latter 
 was sown at a later period. 
 
 36. As to the preserving of llie seed, it is an invari- 
 able rule applicable to all seeds, that seed, kept in the 
 pod to the very time of sowing, will vegetate more 
 quickly and more vigorously than seed which has been 
 some time threshed out. Hut, turnip-seed m ill do very well, 
 if threshed out as soon as ripe, and kept in a dry place, 
 and not too nnich exposed to tiie air. A bag, hung up 
 in a dry room, is the depository that I use. But, before 
 being tin'eshcd out, the seed should be quite ripe, and, 
 if cut oir, or pulled n\), which latter is the best way, 
 before the pods are quite dead, the whole should be 
 suffered to he in the sun till the pods are perfectly 
 dead, in order that the seed may imbibe its full nourish- 
 racftt, and come to complete perfection ; otherwise the 
 seed will wither, much of it will not grow at all, and 
 that Avhich does grow Mill produce plants inferior to 
 those proceeding from \^ ell-ripened seed.
 
 Chap. II.] RuTA Baga cultuke. 51 
 
 Time of Sowing. 
 
 37. Our time of soicing in England is from the first 
 to the twentieth of June, though some persons sow in 
 May, Avhich is still better. This was one of the matters 
 of the most deep interest with me, when I came to 
 H^de Park. I could not begin before the month of 
 June ; for I had no ground ready. But, then, 1 began 
 with great care, on the second of June, sowing, in small 
 plots, once every tceek, till the 30th of July. In every 
 ease the seed took well and the plants grew well ; but, 
 having looked at the growth of the plots first so^vn, and 
 calculated upon the probable advancement of them, I 
 fixed upon the 26th of June for the sowing of my prin- 
 cipal crop. 
 
 353. I was particularly anxious to know, whether this 
 country were cursed with the Turnip fly, "which is so 
 destructive in England. It is a little insect about the 
 sizeof a6erf^ert, and jumps away from all approaches 
 exactly like that insect. It abounds sometimes, in 
 quantities, so great as to eat up all the young plants, 
 on hundreds and thousands of acres, in a single day. 
 It makes its attack when the plants are in the seed-leaf; 
 and, it is so very generally prevalent, that it is always an 
 even chance, at least, that every field that is sown will 
 be thus Mholly destroyed. There is no remedy but that 
 of ploughing and sowing again; and this is frequently 
 repeated three times, and even then there is no crop. 
 Volumes upon volumes have been WTitten on the means 
 of preventing, or mitigating, this calamity ; but nothing 
 effectual has ever been discovered ; and, at last, the only 
 means oi' insuring a crop of Ruta Baga in England, is, 
 to raise the plants in small plots, sown atmaiiy different 
 times, in the same manner as cabbages are sown, and, 
 like cabbages, traiuplant them; of which mode of cul- 
 ture I shall speak by and by. It is very singular, that 
 a field sown one day, wholly escapes, while a field sown 
 the next day, is wholly destroyed. Nay, a part of the 
 same field, sown in the morning, will sometimes escape, 
 while the part, sown in the afternoon, will be destroyed ; 
 and, sometimes the afternoon sowing is the part that is 
 spared. To find a remedy for this evil has posed all the 
 D2 
 
 -- ^ ffBRARV 
 OmVERSITY OF II 
 AT URBANA-CHA^
 
 52 RuTA Baga culture. [Part I. 
 
 heads of all the naturalists and chemists of England. 
 As an evil, the smut in wheat ; the wire-worm ; the grubs 
 above-ground and under-ground ; the caterpillars, 
 green and black ; the slug, red, black, and grey ; though 
 each a great tormentor, are nothing. Against all these 
 there is some remedy, though expensive and plaguing ; 
 or, at any rate, their ravages are comparatively slow, 
 and their causes are knoiim. But, the Turnip JJy is 
 the Enghsh farmer's evil genius. To discover a remedy 
 for, or the cause of, this plague, has been the object of 
 inquiries, experiments, analyses, innumerable. Premium 
 upon premium offered, has only produced pretended 
 remedies, which have led to disappointment and mortifi- 
 cation ; and, I have no hesitation to say, that, if any 
 man could find out a real remedy, and could communi- 
 cate the means of cure, Mhile he kept the nature of the 
 means a secret, he would be much richer than he who 
 should discover the longitude ; for about fifty thousand 
 farmers would very cheerfully pay him ten guineas 
 a-year each. 
 
 39. The reader will easily judge, then, of my anxiety 
 to know, whether this mortal enemy of the farmer ex- 
 isted in Long Island. This Avas the first question which 
 I put to every one of my neighbours, and I augured 
 good from their not appearing to understand what I 
 meant. However, as my little plots of turnips came up 
 successively. I watched them as our farmers do their 
 fields in England. To my infinite satisfaction, I found 
 that my alarms had been groundless. This circum- 
 stance, besides others that I have to mention by and by, 
 gives to the stock-farmer in America so great an ad- 
 vantage over the farmer in England, or in any part of 
 the midtlle and northern parts of Europe, that it is truly 
 wonderful that the culture of this root has not, long 
 ago, become general in this country. 
 
 40. The time of sowing, then, may be, as circum- 
 stances may require, j^'07h the 25th of June to about the 
 10th of July, as the result of my experiments will now 
 show. The plants sown during the first fifteen days of 
 June grew well, and attained great size and weight ; 
 but, though they did not actually go off to seed, they 
 were very little short of so doing. They rose into large
 
 Chap. II.] RuTA Baga culture. 53 
 
 and long necks, and sent out sprouts from the upper 
 part of the bulb ; and, then, the bulb itself (which is the 
 thing sought after) swelled no more. The substance of 
 the bulb became hard and stringy; and the turnips, 
 upon the whole, were smaller and of greatly inferior 
 quality, compared with those, which were sown at the 
 proper time. 
 
 41. The turnips sown between the 1 5th and 26th of 
 June, had all these appearances and quality, only in a 
 less degree. I^ut, those which were sown on the 26th 
 of June, were perfect in shape, size, and quality ; and, 
 though I have grown them larger in England, it was 
 not done without more manure upon half an acre than 
 I scratched together to put upon seven acres at Hyde 
 Park ; but of this I shall speak more particularly when 
 I come to the quantity of crop. 
 
 42. The sowings which were made after the 26th of 
 June, and before the 10th of July, did very well; and, 
 one particular so^ving on the 9th of July, on 12 rods, or 
 perches, of ground, sixteen and a half feet to tlie rod, 
 yielded 62 bushels, leaves and roots cut off, which is 
 after the rate of 992 bushels to an acre. But this 
 sowing was on ground extremely well prepared and 
 sufF'""ntly manured with ashes from burnt earth; a 
 mode of raising manure of which I shall fully treat in a 
 future chapter. 
 
 43. I'hough this crop was so large, sown on the 9th 
 of July, I would by no means recommend any farmer, 
 who can sow sooner, to defer the business to that time ; 
 for, I am of opinion, Avith the old folk in the West of 
 England, that Qod is almost always on the side of early 
 fanners. Besides, one delay too often produces ano- 
 ther delay ; and he who puts off to the 9th may put off 
 to the 19th. 
 
 44. The crops in small plots, which I sowed after 
 the 9th of July to the 30th of that month, greto very 
 well ; but they regularly succeeded each other in dimi- 
 nution of size; and, which is a great matter, the cold 
 weather overtook them before they were ripe; and 
 ripeness is full as necessary in the case of roots as iu 
 the case of apples or of peaches.
 
 54 RuTA Baga culture. [Part. I. 
 
 Quality and Preparation of the Seed. 
 
 45. As a fine, rich, loose garden mould, of great 
 depth, and having a porous stratum under it, is best for 
 every thing that vegetates, except plants that live best 
 in water, so it is best for the Ruta Baga. But, I know of 
 no soil in the United Slates, in which this root may not 
 be cultivated with the greatest facility. A pvre sand, 
 or a very stiff" day, would not do well, certainly ; but I 
 have never seen any of either in America. The soil 
 that I cultivate is jjoo/- almost proverbially ; but, what it 
 really is, is this: it is a light loam, approaching towards 
 the sandy. It is of a brownish colour about eight inches 
 deep ; then becomes more of a red for about another 
 eight inches ; and then comes a mixture of yelloAvish sand 
 and of pebbles, which continues dowTi to the depth of 
 many feet. 
 
 46. So much for the nature of the land. As to its 
 state, it was that of as complete poverty as can well be 
 imagined. My main crop of Ruta Baga was sown upon 
 two different pieces. One, of about three acres, had 
 borne, in 1816, some Indian corn stalks, together with 
 immense quantities of brambles, grass, and weeds, of 
 all descriptions. The other, of about four acres, had, 
 when I took to it, rye growing on it; but, this rye was 
 so poor, that my neighbour assured me, that it could 
 produce nothing, and he advised me to let the cattle and 
 sheep take it for their trouble of walking over the ground, 
 which advice I readily followed ; but, when he heard 
 me say, that I intended to sow Russia turnips on the 
 same ground, he very kindly told me his opinion of the 
 matter, which Avas, that I should certainly throw my 
 labour wholly away. 
 
 47. With these two pieces of groimd I went to work 
 early in June. I ploughed them very shallow, thinking 
 to drag the grassy clods up Avith the han'ow, to put 
 them in heaps and burn them, in which case I would 
 (barring the ^y !), have pledged my life for a crop of 
 Ruta Baga. It adversely happened to rain, when my 
 clods should have been burnt, and the furrows were so 
 solidly fixed down by the rain, that I could not tear
 
 Chap. II.] RUTA B.\GA CULTURE. 55 
 
 them up with the harrow ; and, besides, my time of solv- 
 ing came on apace. Thus situatetl, and having no faith 
 in what I was told about the danfjcrs of deep ptovghiny, 
 I fixed four oxen to a stront^ plough, and turned up 
 soil that had not seen the sun lor many, many long 
 years. Another soaking rain came very soon after, and 
 Avent, at once, to the bottom of my ploughing, instead 
 of being carried away instantly by evaporation. I then 
 harrowed the ground down level, in order to keep it 
 moist as long as I could ; for the sun now began to be 
 the thing most dreaded. 
 
 48. In the meanwhile I was preparing my mamire. 
 There was nothing of the kind visible upon the place. 
 But, I had tlie good luck to follow a person, who ap- 
 pears not to have known much of the use oi brooms. By 
 means of sweeping and raking and scratching in and 
 round the house, tlie barn, the stables, the hen-roost, 
 and the court and yard, I got together about four hun- 
 dred btis'hcls of not very bad turnip manure. This was 
 not quite 60 bushels to an acre for m}' seven acres ; or, 
 three gallons to every square rod. 
 
 49. However, though I made use of these beggarly 
 means. ' would not be understood to recommend tlie 
 use of such means to others. On the contrary, I should 
 have preferred good and clean land, and plenty of ma- 
 nure : but of this I shall speak again, when I have 
 given an account ol" the manner of sowing and ti-ans- 
 planting. 
 
 Manner of Sowing. 
 
 50. Thus fitted out witli land and manure, I set to 
 the work of sowing, which was performed, with the help 
 of two ploughs and two pair of oxen, on the 25th, 26th, 
 and 27th of June. The ploughmen put the ground up 
 into little , idgcs having tico furrows on each side of the 
 ridge: so that every ridge consisted of four furrows, or 
 turnings over of tlie plough ; and the tops of the ridges 
 were about four feet Irom each otiier ; and, as the 
 ploughing was perl'ormed to a great depth, there was, 
 of course, a very deep gutter between every two ridges. 
 
 51. 1 took care to have the manure placed so as to be 
 under the middle of each ridge; that is to say, just be-
 
 C6 RuTA Baga culture, [Part I, 
 
 neath where my seed was to come. I had but a very 
 small quantity of seed as well as of raamire. This seed 
 I had, however, brought from home, where it was raised 
 by a neighbour, on whom I could rely, and I had no 
 faith in any other. So that 1 was compelled to bestow 
 it on the ridges mth a very parsimonious hand ; not 
 having, I believe, more than four pounds to sow on the 
 seven acres. It was sown principally in this manner ; 
 a man went along by the side of each ridge, and put 
 down two or three seeds in places at about ten inches 
 from each other, just drawing a little earth over, and 
 pressing it on the seed, in order to make it vegetate 
 quickly before the earth became too dry. This is al- 
 ways a good thing to be done, and especially in dry 
 weather, and under a hot sun. Seeds are \ery small 
 things ; and though, Avhen we see them covered over 
 with earth, we conclude that the earth must touch them 
 closely, we should remember, that a very small cavity 
 is sufficient to keep them untouched nearly all round, 
 in which case, under a hot sun, and near the surface, 
 they are sure to perish, or, at least, to lie long, and 
 until rain come, before they start. 
 
 52. J remember a remarkable instance of this in sav- 
 ing some turnips to transplant at Botley. The whole of 
 a piece of ground was sown broad-cast. My gardener 
 had been told to sow in beds, that we might go in to 
 Aveed the plants ; and, having forgotten this till after 
 sowng, he clapped down his line, and divided the plot 
 into beds by treading/ very hard a little path at the dis- 
 tance of every four feet. The Aveather was very dry 
 and the Avind very keen. It continued so for three 
 weeks ; and, at the end of that time, we had scarcely 
 a turnip in the beds, where the ground had been left 
 raked over ; but, in the paths we had an abundance, 
 which grew to be very fine, and which, when trans- 
 planted, made part of a field which bore thirty-three 
 tons to the acre, and which, as a tvhole Jield, was the 
 finest I ever saw in ray life. 
 
 53. I cannot help endeavouring to press this fact 
 upon the reader. Squeezing down the earth makes it 
 touch the seed in all its parts, and then it will soon vege- 
 tate. It is for this reason, that barley and oat fields
 
 Chap. II.] RuTA Baga culture. ' 57 
 
 should be rolled, if the weather be dry ; and, indeed, 
 that all seeds should be pressed doAvn, if the state of the 
 earth vvill admit of it. 
 
 54. This mode of sowing is neither tedious nor ex- 
 pensive. Two men sowed the whole of my seven acres 
 in the three days, which, when we consider the value 
 of the crop, and the saving in the after-culture, is really 
 not worth mentioning. I do not think, that any sowing 
 by drill is so good, or, in the end, so cheap as this. 
 Drills miss very often in the sowings of such small 
 seeds. However, the thing may be done by hand in a 
 less precise manner. One man Mould have sown the 
 seven acres in a day, by just scattering the seeds along 
 on the top of the ridge, where they might have been 
 buried with the rake, and pressed down by a spade or 
 shovel or some other flat instrument. A slight roller to 
 take two ridges at once, the horse walking in the gutter 
 between, is what I used to make use of when I sowed 
 on ridges ; and, who can want such a roller in America, 
 as long as he has an axe and an auger in his house ? 
 Indeed, this whole matter is such a trifle, when com- 
 pared with the importance of the object, that it is not to 
 be believed, that any man will think it worth the small- 
 est notice as counted amongst the means of obtaining 
 that object. 
 
 55. Broad cast sowing will, however, probably be, 
 in most cases, preferred ; and, this mode of sowing is 
 pretty well understood from general experience. What 
 is required here, is, that the ground be well ploughed, 
 finel\- harrowed, and the seeds thinly and evenh' sown 
 over it, to the amount of about two pounds of seed to an 
 acre ! but, then, if the weather be dry, the seed should, 
 by all means be rolled down. When I have spoken 
 of the after-culUire, 1 shall compare the two methods 
 of sowing, the ridr/e and the broad-cast, in order tha 
 the reader may be the better able to say, which of the 
 two is entitled to the preference. 
 
 After-cultitre. 
 
 56. In relating what I did in this respect, I shall tak 
 it for granted, that the reader Avill understand me 
 describing what I think ought to be done. 
 
 D 5
 
 V 
 
 68 , RuTA Baga culture. [Parti. 
 
 57. When my ridges were laid up, and my seed was 
 soAvn, my neighbours thought, that there was an end of 
 the process ; for, they all said, that, if the seed ever 
 came up, being upon those high ridges, the plants never 
 could hve under the scorching of the sun. 1 Jinew that 
 this was an erroneous notion ; but I had not much confi- 
 dence in the powers of the soil, it being so endently 
 poor, and my supply of manure so scanty. 
 
 58. The plants, however, made their appearance 
 vith great regularity ; no /?</ came to annoy them. The 
 moment they were fairly up, Ave went with a very small 
 hoe, and took all but one in each ten or eleven or twelve 
 inches, and thus left them singly placed. This is a 
 great point ; for ihey begin to rob one another at a very 
 early age, and, if left two or three weeks to rob each 
 other, before they are set out singly, the crop will be 
 diminished one-half. To set the plants out in this way 
 w-as a very easy and quickly-performed business ; but, 
 it is a business to be left to no one but a careful man. 
 Boys can never safely be trusted with the deciding, at 
 discretion, Avhether you shall have a large crop or a 
 small one. 
 
 59. But now, something else began to appear as well 
 as turnip-plants ; for, all the long grass and weeds 
 having dropped their seeds the summer before, and, 
 probably, for many summers, they now came forth to 
 demand their share of that nourishment, produced by 
 the fermentation, the deMs, and particularly the sun, 
 Avhich shines on all alike. 1 never saw a fiftieth part 
 so many weeds in mj life upon a hke space of ground. 
 Their little seed leaves, of various hues, formed a 
 perfect mat on the ground. And now it was, that my 
 wide ridges, which had appeared to my neighbours to 
 be so very singular and so unnecessary, were absolutely 
 necessary. First we went Mith a hoe, and hoed the 
 tops of the ridges, about si.\ inches wide. There were 
 all the plants, then, clear and clean at once, with an 
 expense of about half a day's work to an acre. Then 
 we came, in our Botley fashion, with a single horse- 
 plough, took a furrow from the side of one ridge going up 
 the field, a furrow from the other ridge coming down, 
 then another furrow from the same side of the first
 
 Chap. II.] RuTA Baga cultlre. 69 
 
 ridge going up, and another from the same side of the 
 other ridge coming down. In the taking away of the 
 last tM i'urroAvs, Ave Avent Avithin three inches of the 
 turnip-plants. Thus there Avas a ridge over the origi- 
 nal gutter. Then aao turned these furroAA's back again 
 to the turnips. And, having gone, in this manner, OAer 
 the Avhole piece, there it AAas Avith not a Aveed aliAe in 
 it. All killed by the sun, and tlie field as clean and 
 as fine as any garden tliat CA'er Avas seen. 
 
 60. Those Avho knoAv the effect of tillage between 
 growing plants, and especially if the earth be moved 
 deep (and, indeed, Avhat American does not knoAv Avhat 
 such effect is, seeing that, Avithout it, there Avould be no 
 Indian Corn!); those that reflect on this effect, may 
 guess at the effect on my Ruta Baga plants, Avhich soon 
 gaA'e me, by their appearance, a decided proof, that 
 Tull's principles are always true, in A\hateA'er soil or 
 climate applied. 
 
 61 . it Avas noAv a very beautiful thing to see, a regular 
 unbroken line of fine, fresh looking plants upon the tops 
 of those Avide ridges, Aviiich had been thought to be so 
 very Avhimsical and unnecessary. But, Avhy have the 
 i-idges so very wide ? This question Avas not ncAv to me, 
 Avho had to answer it a thousand times in England. It 
 is because you cannot plough deep and clean in a nar- 
 roAver space than four feet; and, it is the deep and clean 
 ploughing that I regard as the surest means of a large 
 crop, especially in poor, or indifferent ground. It is a 
 great error to suppose, that there is any ground lost by 
 tliese Avide intervals. iMy crop of thirty-three toiis, or 
 thirteen hundred and twenty btisheU, to the acre, taking 
 a Avhole field together, had the same sort of intervals ; 
 Avhile my neighbour's, Avith two feet interAals, ncA'er ar- 
 rived at'tAvo tliirds of the Aveight of that crop. There is 
 no ground lost ; for, any one, avIio has a mind to do it, 
 may satisfy himself, that the lateral roots of any fine 
 large turnip Avill extend more than six feet from the bulb 
 of the plant. The intervals are full of these roots, the 
 breaking of Avhich and the moving of Avhich, as in the 
 case of Indian Corn, gives new food and neAv roots, and 
 produces Avonderful efl'ectson the plants. Wide as my 
 intervals were, the leaves of some of the plants very 
 nevly touched thos>e of the plants; outhe adjoiuiog ridge.
 
 60 RuTA Baoa culture. [Part I. 
 
 before the end of their growth , and I have had them 
 frequently meet in this way in England. They would 
 always do it here, if the ground were rich and the tillage 
 proper. How then, can the intenals be too wide, if 
 the plants occupy the interval I And how can any 
 ground be lost if every inch be full of roots and shaded 
 b}' leaves '. 
 
 62. After the last-mentioned operation my plants re- 
 mained till the weeds had again made their appearance; 
 or, rather, till a new biood had started up. When this 
 was the case, we went with the hoe again, and cleaned 
 the tops of the ridges as before. The weeds under this 
 all-powerful sun, instantly perish. Then we repeated 
 the former operation with the one-horse plough. After 
 this nothing was done but to pull up now and then a 
 weed, which had escaped the hoe ; for, as to the plough- 
 share, nothing escapes that. 
 
 63. Now, i think, no farmer can discover in this pro- 
 cess any thing more difficult, more troublesome, more 
 expensive, than in the process absolutely necessary to 
 the obtaining of a crop of Indian Corn. And yet, 1 will 
 venture to say, that in any land, capable of bearing 
 
 yifty bushels of corn upon an acre, more than a thousand 
 busbels of Ruta Baga may, in the above described 
 manner, be raised. 
 
 64. In the broad-cast method the after-culture must, 
 of course, be confined to hoei/ig, or, as Tull calls it, 
 seratching. In England, the hoer goes in when the 
 plants are about four inches high, and hoes all the 
 ground, setting out the y^lants to about eighteen inches 
 apart ; and, it' tlie ground be at all foul, he is obliged lo 
 go in about a month afterwards, to hoe the ground again. 
 This is all that is done ; and a very poor all it is, as the 
 crops^ on the very best ground, compared with the ridged 
 crops, invariably show. 
 
 Transplanting. 
 
 65. This is a third mode of cultivating the Ruta 
 Baga ; and, in certain cases, far preferable to either of 
 the other two. My large crops at Botley were from 
 roots transplanted. I resorted to this mode in order to 
 insure acrop in spite of the fy; but, I am of opinion,
 
 Chap. II.] RcTA Baca cultlre. 61 
 
 that it is, in all cases, the best mode, provided hands can 
 be obtained in sufficient number, just for a few days, or 
 weeks, as the quantity may be, when the land and the 
 plants are read)-. 
 
 66. Much light is thrown on matters of this sort by 
 describing what one has done oyte's sc/f relating to them. 
 This is practice at once ; or, at least, it comes much 
 nearer to it than any instructions possibh' can. 
 
 67. It was an accident that led me to the practice. 
 In the summer of 1812, 1 had a piece oi Ruta Baga in 
 the middle of a field, or, rather, the piece occupied a 
 part of the field, having a crop of carrots on one side, 
 and a crop of Mangel Wurzel on the other side. On 
 the 20th of July the turnips, or rather, those of thera 
 which had escaped tlie fly, began to grow pretty well. 
 They had been sown in drills ; and 1 was anxious to 
 fill up the spaces, which had been occasioned by the 
 ravages of the fiy. I, therefore, took the supernume- 
 rary plants, which I found in the un-attacked places, 
 and filled up the rows by transplantation, which I did 
 also in two other fields. 
 
 68. The turnips thus transplanted, grew, and, in fact, 
 were pretty good ; but, they were very far inferior to 
 those which had retained their original places. But, it 
 happened, that on one side of the above-mentioned piece 
 of turnips, there was a vacant space of about a yard in 
 breadth. When the ploughman had finished ploughing 
 between the rows of turnips, I made hiai plough up that 
 spare ground very deep, and upon it I made my gar- 
 dener go and plant two rows of turnips. These became 
 the largest and finest of the whole piece, though trans- 
 planted two days later than those wliich had been trans- 
 planted in the rows throughout the piece. The cause 
 of this remarkable difference, 1 at once saw, was, that 
 these had been put into ncidg-ploughcd ground ; for, 
 thougli I had not read much of Till at the time here 
 referred to, I knew, from the experience of my whole 
 life, that plants as well as seeds ought always to go 
 into ground as recently moved as possible ; because at 
 every moving of the earth, and particular]> at every 
 turning of it, a new process of fermentation takes place, 
 fresh exhalations arise, and a supply oi'ihefood of plants
 
 62 RuTA Baga culture. [Part 1. 
 
 is .hus prepared lor the newly arrived guests, Mr. Cur- 
 WEx, the Member of Parliament, though a poor thing 
 as to public matters, has published not a bafi book on 
 agricnltiirc. It is not bad, because it contains many 
 authentic accounts of experiments made by himself; 
 though I never can think of his book without thinking, 
 at the same time, of the gross and scandalous plagia- 
 risms, Avhich he has committed upon Till. Without 
 mentioning particulars, the " //oMOMrai/e Member" will, 
 I am sure, know what 1 mean, if this page should ever 
 have the honour to fall under his eye ; and he will, I 
 hope, repent, and give proof of his repentance, by a 
 restoration of the property to the right owner. 
 
 69. However, Mr. Clkvvex, in his book, gives an 
 account of the Avonderi'ul effects of moving the ground 
 between plants in rows ; and he tells us of an experi- 
 ment, which he made, and which proved, that from 
 ground just ploughed, in a very dry time, an exhalation 
 of many tons Aveight, per acre, took place, during the 
 first twenty-four hours after ploughing, and of a less and 
 less number of tons, during the tfiree or four succeeding 
 twenty-four hours ; tha.t, in the course of about a week, 
 the exhalation ceased; and that, during the whole pe- 
 riod, the ground, though in the same Jield, which had 
 not been ploughed when the other ground Avas, exhaled 
 itot an ounce! When I read this in Mr. Curwen's book, 
 which was before I had read Till, I called to mind, 
 that, having once dug the ground between some rows of 
 ■pai-t of a plot of cabbages in my garden, in order to 
 plant some late peas, I perceived (it was in a dry time) 
 the cabbages, the next morning, in the part recently 
 dug, with big drops of dew hanging on the edges of the 
 leaves, and in the other, or undug part of the plot, "o 
 drops at all. I h;\d forgotten the fact till 1 read I\ir. Crn- 
 vvEx, and 1 never liucw the can$e till I read the real 
 Father of English Ilusbandrg . 
 
 70. From tliis digression 1 return to the history, first 
 of my English transplanting, i saw, at once, that the 
 only way to ensure a crop of turnips v.as by transplan- 
 tation. The next year, therefore, I prepared a field oi' 
 Jive acres, and another of twelve. I made ridges, in the 
 maimer described, for sowing; and, on the 7th of June
 
 Chap. II.] RuTA Bac.\ culture. 63 
 
 in the first field, and on the 20th of July in the second 
 field, I planted 'my plants. I ascertained to an exact- 
 ness, that there were thirty-three tons to an acre, 
 throughout the whole seventeen acres. After this, 1 
 never used any other method. 1 never saw above half 
 as great a crop in any other person's land ; and, though 
 we read of much greater in ar/riciiltural prize reports, 
 they must have been of the extent of a single acre, or 
 something in that way. In my usual order, the ridges 
 four feet asunder, and tlie plants afoot asunder on the 
 ridge, there were ten thousand eiyht hundred and thirty 
 turnips on the acre of ground ; and, therefore, lor an 
 acre to weigh thirty-three tons, each turnip must weigh 
 very nearly seven pounds. After the time here spoken 
 of, I had an acre or two at the end of a large field, 
 transplanted on the 13th of July, which probably, 
 weighed Jiffy tons an acre. I delayed to have them 
 weighed till a firo happened in some of my farm build- 
 ingSj which produced a lurther delay, and so the thing 
 was not done at all ; but, I weighed one nagon load, 
 the turnips of which averaged eleven pounds each; and 
 several weighed fourteen pounds each. My very largest 
 upon Long Island weighed tuelve pounds and a half. In 
 all these cases, as well here as in England, the produce 
 was from transplanted plants ; though at Hyde Park, I 
 have many turnips of more than ten pounds weight eacli 
 from soun plants, some of w hich, on account of the great 
 perfection in their qualities, I have selected, and am 
 now planting out, for seed. 
 
 71. I will now give a full account of my transplantin"- 
 at Hyde Park. In a part of the ground which was put 
 into ridges and sowii, I scattered the seed along very 
 thinly upon the top of the ridge. But, however thinlv 
 you may attempt to scatter such small seeds, there Mill 
 always be too many plants, if the tillage be good and the 
 seed good also. I suffered these ])lants to stand as they 
 came up ; and, they stood much too long, on account of 
 my want of hands, or, ratlier, my want ot' time to attend 
 to give my directions in the transplanting ; and, indeed, 
 my c.r«H.7>/e too ; for, Imetnotwitii a man who knew 
 how to Jix a plant in the ground ; and, strange as it may 
 appear, more than half the bulk of crop depends on a
 
 64 RuTA Kaoa culture. [Parti, 
 
 little, triffling, contemptible twist of the setting-stick, or 
 dibble; a thing very Avell kno^vn to all gardeners in the 
 case of cabbages, and about which, therefore, I will give, 
 bj and by, very plain instructions. 
 
 72. Thus puzzled, and not being able to spare time 
 to do the job myself, I was one day looking at my poor 
 plants, which were dailj' suffering for want of removal, 
 and was thinking how glad I should be of one of the 
 Churciiers at Bolley, Avho, I thought to myself, would 
 soon clap me out my turnip patch. At this very time, 
 and into the field itself, came a cousin of one of these 
 Churchers, who had lately arrived from England! 
 It was very strange, but literally the fact. 
 
 73. To work Churcher and I Ment, and, with the aid 
 of persons to pull up the plants and bring them to us, 
 we planted out about two acres, in the mornings and 
 eoenings of six days : for the weather was too hot for us 
 to keep out after breakfast, until about two hours be- 
 fore sun-set. There was a friend slaying M'ith me, who 
 helped us to plant, and who did, indeed, as much of 
 the work as either Churcher or I. 
 
 74. The time when this was done was from the 21st 
 to the 28th of August, one Sunday and one day of no 
 planting, having intervened. Every body knows, that 
 this is the ver}- hottest season of the year; and, as it 
 happened, this was, last summer, the very driest also. 
 The weather had been hot and dry from the 10th of 
 August: and so it continued to the 12th of September. 
 Any gentleman who has kept a journal of last .>ear, 
 upon Long Island, Avill know this to be correct. Who 
 would have thought to see these plants thrive; who 
 would have thought to see them livei' The next day 
 after being planted, tlieir leaves crumbled between our 
 fingers, li.ke the old leaves of trees. In two days there 
 was no more appearance of a crop upon the ground 
 than there was of a crop on the tunipike-road. But, 
 on the 2nd of September, as I have it in my memoran- 
 dum-book, the plants 6e^a« to show life; and, before 
 the rain came, on the 12th, the piece began to have an 
 air of verdure, and, indeed, to grow and to promise a 
 good crop, 
 
 75. I will speak of the bulk of this crop by and by;
 
 Chap. II.] RuTA Baga culture. 65 
 
 but, I must here mention another transplantation that I 
 made in the latter end of July. A plot of ground, oc- 
 cupied bv one of my earliest sowings, had the turnips 
 standing in it in rows at eighteen inches asunder, and at 
 a ,foot asimder in the rows. Towards the middle of 
 July I found, that one half of the rows must be taken 
 away, or that the whole would be of little value. 
 Having pulled up the plants, I intended to translate 
 them (as they say of Bishops) from the garden to the 
 field ; but, I had no ground ready. However, I did not 
 like to throw away these plants, which had already 
 bidbs as large as hens' eggs. They were carried into 
 the cellar, where they lay in a heap, till (which would 
 soon happen hi such liot weather) they began to fer- 
 ment. This made the most of their leaves turn white. 
 Unwilling, still, to throw them away, I next laid them 
 ore the grass iri the front of the house, where they got 
 the dews in the niglit, and they were covered with a 
 mat during the day, except two days, when they were 
 overlooked, or, rather, neglected. The heat was very 
 great, and, at last, supposing these plants rfeac/, I did 
 not cover them any more. There they lay aban- 
 doned till the 24fh of July, on which day I began 
 planting Cabbages in my field. I then thought, that 1 
 would try the hardiness of a Rufa Baga plant. I took 
 these same abandoned plants, without a morsel of green 
 lei't about them ; planted them in part of a row of the 
 piece of cabbages ; and they, a hundred and six in 
 mnnber, weighed, when they were taken up, in Decem- 
 ber, nirie httndred and one pounds. One of these turnips 
 Aveighed tirelce poinids and a half. 
 
 76. But, it ought to be obsened, that this was in 
 ground which had been got up in my best manner ; that 
 it had some of the best of my maiuire: and, that un- 
 common pains were taken by myself in the putting in of 
 tlie plants. This experiment shows, what a hardy 
 plant this is ; but, I must caution the reader against a 
 belief, that it is either desirable or prudent to put 
 this quality to so severe a test. There is no necessity 
 for it, in general ; and, indeed, the rule is, that the 
 shorter time the plants are out of the ground the 
 better.
 
 66 RuTA Baga culture, [Part. I. 
 
 77. But, as to the business of transplanting, there is 
 one very material observation to make. The ground 
 ought to be Refresh; that is to say, as recently moved 
 by the plough, as possible ; and that for the reasons 
 before stated. Tlie Avay I go on is this: my land is 
 put up into ridges, as described under the head of Man- 
 ner of soxcing. Tliis is done before-hand, several days ; 
 or, it may be, a ^veek or more. When Me have our 
 plants and hands all ready, the ploughman begins, and 
 turns in the ridges ; that is to say, ploughs the ground 
 back again, so that the top of the new-ploughed ridge 
 stands over the place where the channel, or gutter, or 
 deep furrow, Avas, before he began. As soon as he has 
 finished the first ridge, the planters plant it, while he is 
 ploughing the second : and so on throughout the field. 
 That this is not a very tedious process the reader needs 
 only to be told, that, in ISIG, I had Jiffif-two acres of 
 Ruta Baga planted in this way ; and I think I had more 
 than Jifty thousand bushels. A smart hand will plant 
 half an acre a-day, with a girl or a boy to drop the 
 plants for him. I had a man, M^ho planted an acre a 
 day many a time. But, supposing that a quarter of an 
 acre is a day's work, what are four days' tcork, when 
 put in competion with the value of an acre of this in- 
 valuable root I And what farmer is there, who has 
 common industry, who would grudge to bend his otvn 
 back eight or twelve days, for the sake of keeping iill 
 his stock through the Spring months, when dry food is 
 loathsome to thera, and Avhen grass is by nature denied ? 
 
 78. ObserA'ii7g well what has been said about earth 
 perfectly fresh, and never forgetting this, let us now talk 
 about the act of planting ; the mere mechanical opera- 
 tion of putting the plant into the ground. We have a 
 setting-stick which should be the top of a spade-handle 
 cut off, about ten inches below the eye. It must be 
 pointed smoothly ; and, if it be shod with thin iron ; that 
 is to say, covered with an iron sheath, it will Avork more 
 smoothly, and do its business the better. At any rate 
 the point should be nicely smoothed, and so should the 
 whole of the tool. The planting is performed like that 
 of cabbage-plants ; but, as I have met with very few 
 persons, out of the market gardens, and gentlemen's
 
 Chap> II.J RuTA Baga culture. 67 
 
 c;ardens in Englaml, who knew how to plant a cab- 
 fcage-plant, so I am led to suppose, that very few, com- 
 paratively speaking, know how to plant a turnip-plant. 
 
 79. You constantly hear people say, that they wait 
 for a shoicer, in order to put out their cabbage-plants. 
 Never Avas there an error more general or more com- 
 plete in all its parts. Instead of rainy Aveather being 
 the best time, it is the very worst time, for this business 
 of transplantation, whether of cabbages or of any thing 
 else, from a lettuce-plant to an apple-tree. I have 
 proved the fact, in scores upon scores of instances. The 
 first time that I had any experience of the matter was 
 in the planting out of a plot of cabbages in my garden 
 at Wilmington in Delaware. I planted in dry weather, 
 and, as I had always done, in such cases, I watered the 
 plants heavily; but, being called away for some pur- 
 pose, I left one row umcafcred, and it happened, that it 
 so continued without my observing it till the next dsij. 
 The sun had so completely scorched it by the next 
 night, that when I repeated my watering of the rest, 1 
 left it, as being unworthy of m> caie, intending to plant 
 some other thing in the ground occupied by this dead 
 row. But, in a few da>s, I saw, that it was not dead. 
 It grew soon afterwards; and, in the end, the cab- 
 bages of my dead row were not only larger, but earlier 
 in leaving, than any of the rest of the plot. 
 
 80. The reason is this : if plants are put into wet 
 earth, the setting-stick squeezes the earth up against 
 the tender fibres in a mortar-like state. The sun comes 
 and bakes this mortar into a sort of glazed clod. The 
 hole made by the stick is also a smooth sided hole, 
 which retains its form, and presents, on every side, an 
 impenetrable substance to the fibres. In short, such as 
 the hole is made, such it, in a great measure, remains, 
 and the roots are cooped up in this sort of well, instead 
 of having a free course left them to seek their food on 
 every side. Besides this, the fibres get, from being wet 
 when planted, into a small compass. They all cling 
 about the tap-root, and are stuck on to it by the wet 
 dirt ; in which state, if a hot sun follow, they are all 
 baked together in a lump, and cannot stir. On the 
 contrary, when put into ground vmvet, the reverse of
 
 68 RuTA Baoa culture. [Part I. 
 
 all this takes place; and the fresh earth will, under any 
 sun, supply moisture in quantity sufficient. 
 
 81. Yet in July and August, both in England and 
 America, hov,' many thousands and thousands are wait- 
 ing for a shower to put out their plants ! And then, 
 when the long-wished-for shower comes^ they must plant 
 upon stale ground, for thoy have it dug ready, as it 
 were, for the purpose of keeping them company in wait- 
 ing for the shower. Thus all the fermentations which 
 took place upon the digging, is gone ; and, when the 
 planting has once taken place, farewell to the spade ! 
 For, it appears to he a privilege of the Indian com to 
 receive something like good usage after beiiig planted. 
 It is very strange that it should have been thus, for 
 Avhat reason is there for other plants not enjoying a si- 
 milar benefit ] The reason is, that they will produce 
 something without it ; and the Indian corn Avill posi- 
 tively ])roduce nothing; for which the Indian corn is 
 very much to be commended. As an instance of this 
 effect [of deeply moving the earth between growing 
 crops, I will menti>)n, that, in the month of June, and 
 on the 26th of that month, a very kind neighbour of 
 mine, in whose garden I was, showed nie a plot of 
 Green Savoy Cabbages, which he had planted in some 
 ground as rich as ground could be. He had planted 
 them about three weeks before; and they appeared 
 very fine indeed. In the seed bed, from Mhich he had 
 taken his plants, there remained about a hundred; but, 
 as they had been left as of no use, they had drawn each 
 other up, in company with the weeds, till they were 
 about eighteen inches high, having only a starved leaf 
 or two upon the top of each. I asked my neighbour to 
 give me these plants, Mhich he readily did ; but begged 
 me not to plant them, for, he assured me, that they 
 would come to nothing. Indeed, they Avere a ragged 
 lot ; but, I had no plants of my omti sowing more than 
 two inches high. I, thcFcfore, took these plants and 
 dug some ground for them between some rows of scarlet 
 blossomed beans, which mount upon poles. I cut a 
 stick on purpose, and put the plants very deep into the 
 ground. My beans came off in August, and then the 
 ground was well dug between the rows of cabbages.
 
 Chap. II.] Rut A Baga culture, 69 
 
 In September, mine had far surpassed the prime plants 
 of my neighbour. And, in the end I believe, that ten 
 of my cabbages Avoukl have weighed a hundred of his, 
 leaving out the stems in both cases. But, his had 
 remained uncultivated after planting. The ground, 
 battered down by successive rains, had become hard 
 as a brick. All the stores of food had been locked up, 
 and lav in a dormant state. There had been no re- 
 newed fermentations, and no exhalations. 
 
 82. Having now said Avhat, [ would fain hope, will 
 convince every reader of the folly of icaiting for a 
 shower in order to transplant plants of any sort, I will 
 now speak of the mere act of planting, more particu- 
 larly than I have hitlierto spoken. 
 
 83. The hole is made sufficiently deep ; deeper than 
 the length of the root does really require; but, the 
 root should not be bent at the point, if it can be avoid- 
 ed. Then, while one hand holds the plant, with its 
 root in the hole, the other hand apphes the setting- 
 stick to the earth on one side of the hole, the stick behig 
 held in such a way as to form a sharp triangle with the 
 plant. Then pushing the stick (lo^\^l, so that its point 
 goes a little deeper than the point of the root, and giving 
 it a little twist, it presses the earth against the point, or 
 bottom of the root. And thus all is safe, and the plant 
 is sure to grow. 
 
 84. The general, and almost universal fault, is, that 
 the planter, when he has put the root into the hole, 
 draws the earth up against the upper part of the root 
 or stem, and, if he presses pretty well there, he thinks 
 that the planting is well done. But, it is the point of 
 the root, against which the earth ought to be pressed, 
 for there the fbres are; and, if they do not touch the 
 earth closely, the plant will not thrive. The reasons 
 have been given in paragraphs 51 and 52, in speaking 
 of the sowing of seeds. It is the same in all cases of 
 transplanting or planting. Trees, for instance, will be 
 sure to grow, if you sift the earth, or pulverise it very 
 finely, and place it carefully and c-losely about the 
 roots. When we plant a tree, we see all covered by 
 tumbling in the earth ; and, it appears Avhiinsical to 
 suppose, that the earth does not touch all the roots.
 
 70 RuTA Baga cclture. [Part I. 
 
 But, the fact is, that unless great pains be taken, there 
 will be many cavities in the hole where the tree is 
 planted ; and, in whatever places the earth does not 
 closely touch the root, the root will mould, become can- 
 kered, and will lead to the producing of a poor tree. 
 
 85. When I began transplanting in fields in Eng- 
 land, I had infinite difficulty in making my planters 
 attend to the directions, M'hich I have here given. " The 
 point of the stick to the point of the root!" was my 
 constant cry. As I could not be much with m}' Mork- 
 people, I used, in order to try whether they had planted 
 properly, to go after them, and now-and-then take 
 the tip of a leaf between my finger and thumb. If the 
 plant resisted the pull, so as for the bit of leaf to come 
 away, I was sjire that the plant was well fixed ; but, 
 if the pull brought up the plant out of the ground ; then 
 I was sure, that the planting was not Avell done. After 
 the first field or two, I had no trouble. My work was as 
 well done, as if the whole had been done by myself. 
 IMy planting was done chiefly by young ivomen, each 
 of whom would plant half an acre a day, and their pay 
 was ten-pence sterling a day. What a, shame, then, for 
 any inaii to shrink at the trouble and labour of such a 
 matter ! Nor, let it be imagined, that these young wo- 
 men were poor, miserable, ragged, squalid creatures. 
 They were just the contrary. On a Sunday the}- ap- 
 peared in their ivhite dresses, and Avith silk umbrellas 
 over their heads. Their constant labour afforded the 
 means of dressing M-ell, their early rising and exercise 
 gave them health, their habitual cleanliness and neat- 
 ness, for which the women of the Soutli of England ai-e 
 so justly famed, served to aid in the completing of their 
 appearance, which Mas that of fine rosy-cheeked coun- 
 try-girls, fit to be tlie helpmates, and not the burdens, 
 of their future husbands. 
 
 86. But, at any rate, v.hat can be said for a 7nan that 
 thinks too much of such a piece of labour ? The earth 
 is always grateful ; but it mast and will have something 
 to be grateful for. As far as my little experience has 
 enabled me to speak, I find no want of willingness to 
 learn in any of the American workmen. Ours, in Eng- 
 land, are apt to be very obstinate, especially if get-
 
 Chap. 11] RuTA Baga culture. 71 
 
 ting a little old. They do not like to be taught any 
 thing. They sa> , and they think, that what their latliers 
 did was best. To tell ihem, that it was your affair, and 
 not theirs, is nothing. To tell them, that the loss, if 
 any, Avill fall npon you, and not upon them, has verv 
 little weight. The\' argue, that, they being the real 
 doers, ought to be the best judges of the mode of doing. 
 And, indeed, in most cases, they are, and go about this 
 work witli wonderful skill and judgment. But, then, it 
 is so difficult to induce them cordially to do any thing 
 new, or any old tiling in a new way ; and the abler they 
 are as workmen, the more uutractable they are, and the 
 more difficult to be persuaded that any one knows any 
 thing, relating to farming affairs, better than they do. 
 It was this difficulty that made me resort to the emplo}- 
 ment of young women in the most important part of my 
 farming, the providing of immense quantities of cattle- 
 food. But I do not find this difficulty here, where no 
 workmen are obstinate, and where, too, all one's neigh- 
 bours rejoice at one's success, which is by no means the 
 case amongst the farmers in England. 
 
 87. Having now gi\en instructions relative to the 
 business oi transplanting of the Rata Baga, let us see, 
 whether it be not preferable to either the ridgc-sowing 
 
 , method, or the broad-cast method. 
 
 88. In the first place, M'hen the seed is sown on the 
 ground where the plants are to come to perfection, the 
 ground, as we have seen in paragraph 40 and para- 
 grapli 47, must be prepared early in June, at the 
 latest; but, in the transplanungmeliiod,this work may 
 be put off, if need be, till early in August, as we have 
 seen in ])aragraphs 74 and 75. However, the best time 
 for transplanting is about the 2Gth of July, and this 
 gives a month for preparation of land, more than is 
 allowed in the sowing methods. This, of itself, is a 
 great matter ; but, there are others of far greater im- 
 portance. 
 
 89. This transplanted crop may follow another crop 
 oA the same land. Early cabbages will loave and be 
 away ; early peas will be ripe and off; nay, even wheat, 
 and all grain, except buck-Avheat, may be succeeded 
 by Kuta Baga transplanted. 1 had crops to succeed
 
 70 RuTA Baga culture. [Part I. 
 
 But, the fact is, that unless great pains betaken, there 
 will be many cavities in the hole where the tree is 
 planted ; anrl, in whatever places the earth does not 
 closely touch the root, the root will mould, become can- 
 kered, and will lead to the producing of a poor tree. 
 
 85. When I began transplanting in fields in Eng- 
 land, I had infinite difficulty in malcing my planters 
 attend to the directions, which I have here given. " The 
 point of the stick to the point of the root!'" was my 
 constant cry. As I could not be much with my work- 
 people, I used, in order to try whether they had planted 
 properly, to go after them, and now-and-then take 
 the tip of a leaf between my finger and thumb. If the 
 plant resisted the pull, so as for the bit of leaf to come 
 away, I was sure that the plant was \se\\ fixed ; but, 
 if the pull brought up the plant out of the ground ; then 
 I was sure, that the planting was not well done. After 
 the first field or two, I had no trouble. M}' work was as 
 well done, as if the whole had been done by myself. 
 ]Mv planting was done chiefly by young ivomen, each 
 of whom would plant half an acre a day, and their pay 
 was ten-pe7ice sterling a day. What a, shame, then, for 
 any man to shrhik at the trouble and labour of sucli a 
 matter ! Nor, let it be imagined, that these young wo- 
 men were poor, miserable, ragged, squalid creatures. 
 Thev were just the contrary-. On a Sunday they ap- 
 peared in their uhite dresses, and witli silk umbrellas 
 over their heads. Their constant labour afforded the 
 means of dressing well, their early rising and exercise 
 gave them health, their habitual cleanliness and neat- 
 ness, for which the women of the South of England are 
 so justly famed, served to aid in the completing of their 
 appearance, which Mas that of fine rosy-cheeked coun- 
 try-girls, fit to bo the helpmates, and not the burdens, 
 of their future husbands. 
 
 8(j. Bat, at any rate, v.hat can be said for a man that 
 thinks too much of such a piece of labour ! The earth 
 is always grateful ; but it must and will have something 
 to be grateful for. As far as my little experience has 
 enabled me to speak, I find no want of willingness to 
 learn in any of the American workmen. Ours, in Eng- 
 land, are apt to be very obstinate, especially if get-
 
 Chap. II.] RuTA Baga cllture. 71 
 
 ting a little old. They do not like to be taught any 
 thing. They say, and they think, that what their fathers 
 did was best. To tell ihem, that it was your affair, and 
 not theirs, is nothing. To tell them, that the loss, if 
 any, Avill fall upon you, and not upon them, has very 
 little v.eight. They argue, that, they being the real 
 doers, ought to be the best judges of the mode of doing. 
 And, indeed, in most cases, they are, and go about this 
 work with wonderful skill and judgment. But, then, it 
 is so difficult to induce them cordially to do any thing 
 new, or any old thing in a iiew icay ; and the abler they 
 are as workmen, the more uutractable they are, and the 
 more difficult to be persuaded that any one kiiows any 
 thing, relating to farming affairs, better than they do. 
 It was this difficulty that made me resort to the employ- 
 ment of young women in the most important part of my 
 farming, the providing of immense quantities of cattle- 
 food. But I do not find this difficulty here, Avhere no 
 workmen are obstinate, and where, too, all one's neigh- 
 bours rejoice at one's success, which is by no means the 
 case amongst the farmers in England. 
 
 87. Having now gi\en instructions relative to the 
 business of transplanting of the Rata Baga, let us see, 
 whether it be not preferable to either the ridge-sowing 
 method, or the broad-cast method. 
 
 88. In the first place, when the seed is sown on the 
 ground \vhere the plants are to come to perfection, the 
 ground, as we have seen in paragraph 40 and para- 
 graph 47, must be prepared early in June, at the 
 latest; but, in the transplanihig method, this work may 
 be put off, if need be, till early in August, as we have 
 seen in paragraphs 74 and 75. However, the best time 
 for transplanting is about the 26th of July, and this 
 gives a month for preparation of land, more than is 
 allowed in the sowing methods. This, of itself, is a 
 great matter ; but, there are others of far greater im- 
 portance. 
 
 89. This transplanted crop may follow another crop 
 on the same land. Early cabbages will loave and be 
 away ; early peas will be ripe and off; nay, even wheat, 
 and all grain, except buck-wheat, may be succeeded 
 by Ruta Baga transplanted. I had crops to succeed
 
 72 RuTA Baoa culture. [Part I. 
 
 Potatoes, Kidney Beans, White Peas, Onions, and 
 even Indian Corn, gathered to eat green ; and the 
 reader will please to bear in mind, that 1 did not sow, 
 or plant, any of my first crops, just mentioned, till the 
 month of June. What might a man do, then. Mho is 
 in a state to begin with his first crops as soon as he 
 pleases J Wh.o has his land all in order, and Iiis ma- 
 nure ready to be applied. 
 
 90. Another great advantage of the transplanting 
 method is, that it saves almost the whole of the after- 
 culture. There is no hoeing ; no thinnincj of the plants ; 
 and not more than one ploughing between the ridges. 
 This is a great consideration, and shoidd always be 
 thought of, when we are talking of the trouble of trans- 
 planting. The turnips which 1 have mentioned in pa- 
 ragraphs 72^ and 7*{ had no after-culture of any sort ; 
 for they soon spread the groimd over with their leaves ; 
 and, indeed, after July, very few weeds made their 
 appearance. The season for there coming up is passed; 
 and, as every farmer well knows, if there be r.o weeds 
 up at the end of July, very few Avill come that summer. 
 
 91. Another advantage of the transplanting method 
 is, that you are sure that you have your right number 
 of plants, and those regularly placed. For in spite of 
 all you can do in sowing, there will be deficiencies 
 and irregularities. The seed may not come up, in some 
 places. The plants may, in some places, be destroyed 
 in their infant state. They may, now and then, be cut 
 off with the hoe. The best plants may sometimes be 
 cut up, and the inferior plants left to grow. And, in 
 the broad-cast method, the irregularity and uncertainty 
 must be obvious to every one. None of these injurious 
 consequences can arise in the transplanting method. 
 Here, when the Avork is once well done, the crop is cer- 
 tain, and all cares are at an end. 
 
 92. In taking my leave of this part of my treatise, I 
 must observe, that it is useless, and, indeed, unjust, for 
 any man to expect success, unless he attend to the thing 
 himself, at least, till he has made the matter perfectly 
 familiar to his work-people. To neglect any ]inrt of 
 the business is, in fact, to neglect the whole ; just as 
 much as neglecting to put np one of the sides of a build-
 
 Chap. II.J RuTA Baga culture. 73 
 
 ing, is to neglect the whole building. Were it a matter 
 of trifling moment, personal attention might be dis- 
 pensed with ; but, as I shall, I think, clearly show, this 
 is a matter of very great moment to every farmer. The 
 object is, not merely to get roots, but to get them of a 
 large size ; for, as I shall shoAv, there is an amazing 
 difference in this. And, large roots are not to be gotten 
 without care, Mhich, by the by, costs nothing. Besides, 
 the care bestowed in obtaining this crop, removes all 
 the million of cares and vexations of the Spring 
 months, when bleatings everlasting din the farmer al- 
 most out of his senses, and make him ready to knock 
 the brains out of the clamourous flock, M'hen he ought 
 to feel pleasure in the filling of their bellies. 
 
 93. Having now done A\ith the different modes of 
 cropping the ground with Ruta Baga, I will, as I pro- 
 posed in paragraph 49, speak about the preparation of 
 the land generallij ; and in doing this, I shall suppose 
 the land to have borne a good crop of wheat the pre- 
 ce<ling year, and, of course, to be in good heart, as we 
 call it in England. 
 
 94. I would plough this ground in the fall into ridges 
 four feet asunder. The ploughing should be very 
 deep, and the ridges well laid up. In this situation it 
 would, by the successive frosts and thaws, be shaken 
 and broken fine as powder by March or April. In 
 April, it should be turned back ; always ploughing 
 deep. A crop of weeds would be well set upon it by 
 the first of June, Avhen they should be smothered by 
 another turning back. Then, about the third week in 
 June, I would carry in my manure, and fling it along 
 on the trenches or furrows. After this I Mould follow 
 the turning back for the sowing, as is directed in para- 
 graph 50. Now, here are four ploughiugs. And what 
 is the cost of these ploughings? My man, a black man, 
 a native of this Island, ploughs, with his pair of oxen 
 and no driver, an acre and a half a day, and his oxen 
 keep their flesh extremely well upon the refuse of the 
 Ruta Baga which I send to market. What is the cost 
 then ? And, what a fine state the grass is thus brought 
 into ! A very different thing indeed is it to plough hard 
 ground, from what it is to plough grouud in this fine, 
 
 £
 
 T6 RuTU Baga culture. [Parti. 
 
 case, be one more previous ploughing, always taking 
 care to plough in dry iveather, which is an observation 
 I ought to have made before. 
 
 98. But, why should not the plants, in this case, suc- 
 ceed some other good crop, as mentioned before 1 I 
 sowed some early peas (brought from England) on the 
 2nd of June. I harvested them, quite ripe and hard, 
 on the 31st of July ; and I had very fine Ruta Baga, 
 some weighing six pouuds each, after the peas. How 
 little is known of the powers of this soil and climate ! 
 My potatoes were of the kidney sort, which, as eveiy 
 one knows, is not an early sort. They Avere planted 
 on the 2nd of June ; and they were succeeded by a 
 most abundant crop of Ruta Baga. And, the manure 
 for the peas and potatoes served for the Ruta Baga 
 also. In surveying my crops and feeling grateful to 
 the kind earth and the glorious sun that produce these, 
 to me, most delightful objects, how often have I turned, 
 -with an aching heart, toweirds the ill-treated English- 
 men, shut up in dungeons by remorseless tyrants, while 
 not a word had been uttered in their defence by, and 
 "while they were receiving not one cheering visit, or 
 comforting word from. Sir Francis Burdett, who 
 had been the great immediate cause of their incar- 
 ceration ! 
 
 99. As to the quantity and sort of manure to be used 
 in general, it may be the same as for a sowing of rye, 
 or of wheal. I should perfer ashes ; but, my large 
 crops in England were on yard-dung, first thrown into 
 a heap, and afterwards ttiined once or twice, in the 
 Tisual manner as practised in England. At Hyde Park 
 J had nothing but rakings up about the yard, barn, &e. 
 as described before. What I should do, and what I 
 shall do this year, is, to make ashes out oidirt, or earth, 
 of any sort, not very stony. Nothing is so easy as this, 
 especially in this fine climate. I see people go with 
 their wagons five miles for soaper's ashes ; that is to say, 
 spent ashes, which they purchase at the landing place 
 (for they come to the island in vessels) at the rate of 
 about five dollars for forty bushels. Add the expense 
 of land-carriage, and the forty bushels do not cost less 
 than ten dollars. I am of opioioD, that^ by the burning
 
 Chap. II.] RcTA Baga culture. 77 
 
 of earth, as much manure may be got up on the land 
 for half a dollar. I made an experiment last summer, 
 which convinces me, that, if the spent ashes be received 
 as a gift at three miles' distance of land-carriage, they 
 are not a gift worth accepting. But, this experiment 
 Avas upon a small scale ; and, therefore, I will not now 
 speak positively on the subject. 
 
 100. I am now preparing to make a perfect trial of 
 these ashes. I have just ploughed up a piece of ground, 
 in which, a few years ago, Indian Corn was planted, 
 and produced, as I am assured, only stalks, and those 
 not more than two feet high. The ground has, every 
 year since, borne a crop of weeds, rough grass, and 
 briars, or brambles. The piece is about ten acres. I 
 intend to have Indian com on it ; and, my manure 
 shall be made on the spot, and consist of nothing but 
 burnt earth. If I have a decent crop of Indian corn 
 on this land so manured, it will, I think, puzzle my 
 good neighbours to give a good reason for their going 
 Jive miles for spent ashes. 
 
 101. Whether I succeed, or not, I will give an ac- 
 count of my experiment. This I know, that I, in the 
 year 1815, burnt ashes, in one heap, to the amount of 
 about two hundred English cart-loads, each load hold- 
 ing about forty bushels. I should not suppose, that 
 the burning cost me more than ^ue dollars; and there 
 they were upon the spot, in the very field, where they 
 were used. As to their effect, I used them for the 
 transplanted Ruta Baga and Mangel Wurzel, and they 
 produced full as great an effect as the yard-dung used 
 on the same land. This process of burning earth into 
 ashes, without suffering the smoke to escape, during any 
 part of the process, is a discovery of Irish origin. It 
 was pointed out to me by Mr. William Gauntlett 
 of Winchester, late a Commissary with the army in 
 Spain. To this gentleman I also owe, England owes, 
 and I hope America will owe, the best sort of hogs, that 
 are, I believe, in the world. I was wholly unacquainted 
 with Mr. Gauntlett, till the summer of 1815, when, 
 happening to pass by my farm, he saw my hogs, cows, 
 &c. and, when he came by my house he called, and 
 told me, that he had observed, that 1 wanted only a
 
 78 RuTA Baga culture. [Part I. 
 
 good sort of hogs, to make my stock complete, I thought, 
 that I already had the finest in England ; and 1 cer- 
 tainly had a very fine breed, the father of which, with 
 legs not more than about six inches long, weighed, Avhen 
 he was killed, twenty-seven score, according to our 
 Hampshire mode of stating hog-meat weight ; ox, Jive 
 hundred and forty pounds. This breed has been fash- 
 ioned by Mr. Woods of Woodmancut in Sussex, who 
 has been, I believe, more than twenty years abcut it. 
 I thought it perfection itself; but, I was obliged to con- 
 fess, that Mr. Gauntlett's surpassed it. 
 
 102. Of the earth burning 1 will give an account in 
 my next Part of this work. Nothing is easier of per- 
 formance ; and the materials are every where to be 
 found. 
 
 103. I think, that I have now pretty clearly given 
 an account of the modes of sowing, and planting, a.nd 
 cultivating the Ruta Baga, and of the preparation of 
 the land. It remains for me to speak of the iiine and 
 manner of harvesting , the quantity of the crop, and of 
 the uses of, and the mode oj applying the crop. 
 
 Time and Manner of Harvesting. 
 
 104. This must depend, in some measure, upon the 
 age of the turnip ; lor, some will have their full growth 
 earlier than others ; that is to say, those, which are 
 sown first, or transplanted first, will be rijye before 
 those "which are sown, or transplanted latest. I have 
 made ample experiments as to this matter ; and I will, 
 as in former cases, first relate ichat I did; and then 
 give my opinion as to what ought to be done. 
 
 105. This was a concern in which I could have no 
 knowledge last fall, never having seen any turnips 
 harvested in America, and knowing, that, as to Ame- 
 rican frosts, English experience was only likely to 
 mislead ; for, in England, we leave the roots standing 
 in the ground all the winter, where we feed them off 
 with sheep, which scoop them out to the very bottom ; 
 or we pull them as we want them, and bring them in to 
 give to fatting oxen, to cows, or hogs. I had a great 
 opinion of the hardiness of the Ruta Baga, and M-as
 
 Chap. II.] RuTA Baga cui.TrRE," Tft 
 
 resolved to try it here, and I did try it upon too large 
 a scale. 
 
 106. I began with the piece, the first mentioned in 
 paragraph 46 ; a part oi" them were taken up on the 
 13/A o/' Decewi6er, after we had had some pretty hard 
 frosts. The manner of doing the work was this. We took 
 up the turnips merely by pulling them. The greens had 
 been cut off and given to cattle before. It required a 
 spade, hoM'ever, just to loosen them along the ridges, 
 into which their tap-roots had descended very deeply. 
 We dug holes at convenient distances, ofa square form, 
 and about a foot deep. We piit into each hole about 
 fifty bushels of turnips, piling them up above the level 
 of the surface of the land, in a sort of pyraraidical Ibrm. 
 When the heap was made. Me scattered over it about 
 a truss of rye-straw, and threw earth over the whole to 
 a thickness of about a foot, taking care to poiiit the co- 
 vering at top, in order to keep out wet. 
 
 107. Thus was a small part of the piece put up. 
 The 14th of December was a Sunday, a day that I 
 can find no Gospel precept ibr devoting to the throwing 
 away of the fruit of one's labours, and a day which I 
 never will so devote again. However, I ought to have 
 been earlier. On the Monday it rained. On the 
 Monday night came a sharp North-Wester with its 
 usual companion, at this season ; that is to say, a shai'p 
 frost. Resolved to fini.sh this piece on that day, I bor- 
 rowed hands from my neighbours, who are always 
 ready to assist one another. We had about two acres 
 and a half to do ; and it was necessary to employ about 
 one Art//' of the hands to go before thepM//f?rs and loosen 
 the turnips with a spade in the frosty ground. About 
 ten o'clock, 1 saw, that we should not finish, and there 
 was every appearance of a hard frost at night. In 
 order, therefore, to expedite the work, I called in the 
 aid of those efficient fiellow-labourers, a pair of oxen, 
 which, with a good strong plough, going up one side of 
 each row of turnips, took a way the earth close to the 
 bulbs, left them bare on one side, and thus made it ex- 
 tremely easy to pull them up. Wo wanted spades no 
 longer ; all our hands were employed taking up the 
 turnips ; and our job, instead of being half done that
 
 80 RuTA Baga culture. [Part I. 
 
 day, was completed by about^jwo o'clock. Welland justly 
 did Moses order, that the ox should not be muzzled 
 while he was treading out the corn ; for, surely, no ani- 
 mials are so useful, so docile, so gentle as these, while 
 they require at our hands so little care and labour in 
 return ! 
 
 108. Now, it will be observed, that the turnips here 
 spoken of, were put up when the ground and the tur- 
 nips were frozen. Yet they have kept perfectly sound 
 and good ; and I am preparing to plant some of them 
 for seed. I am now writing on the 10^/t of April. I 
 send off these turnips to mai'ket every week. The tops 
 and tails and offal I give to the pigs, to the ewes and 
 lambs, and to a cow, and to working oxen, which all 
 feed together upon this offal flung out about the barn- 
 yard, or on the grass ground in the orchard. Before 
 they have done, they leave not a morsel. But, o{ feed- 
 ing I shall speak by and by. 
 
 109. The other crop of turnips, I mean those'which 
 were transplanted, as mentioned in paragraphs 72 and 
 73, and which, owing to their being planted so late in 
 the summer, kept on growing most luxuriantly till the 
 very hard frosts came. 
 
 110. We were now got on to the 17th of December; 
 and I had cabbages to put up. Saturday, Sunday, and 
 Monday, the 21st and 22nd and 23rd, we had a very 
 hard frost, as the reader, if he live on this island, will 
 well remember. There came a thaw afterwards, and 
 the transplanted turnips were put up like the others ; 
 but this hard frost had pierced them too deeply, espe- 
 cially as they were in so tender and luxuriant a state. 
 Many of these we find rotted near the neck ; and, upon 
 the whole, they have suffered a loss of about one half 
 An acre, left to take their chance in the field, turned 
 out, like most of the games of hazard, a total loss. They 
 were all rotted. 
 
 111. This loss arose wholly from my want of sufli- 
 cient experience. 1 was anxious to neglect no neces- 
 sary precaution ; and I was fully impressed, as I always 
 am, with the advantages of being early. But, early in 
 December, I lost a week at New York ; and, though 
 1 worried my neighbours half to death to get at a knoy-
 
 Chap. II.] RuTA Baga culture. 81 
 
 ledge of the time of the hard weather setting in, I could 
 obtain no knowledge, on which I could rely, the seve- 
 ral accounts being so different from each other. The 
 general account was, that there would be no very hard 
 weather till after Christmas. I shall know better ano- 
 ther time ! Major Cartwright says, in speaking of 
 the tricks of English Boroughmongers, at the ^^ Glorious 
 Revolution," that they will never be able to play the 
 same tricks again ; for that nations, like rational indi- 
 viduals, are not deceived twice in the same way. 
 
 1 12. Thus have I spoken of the time and manner of 
 harvesting, as they took place with me. And, surely, 
 the expense is a mere trifle. Two oxen and four men 
 would harvest two acres in any clear day in the latter 
 end of November ; and thus is this immense crop har- 
 vested, and covered completely, for about tico dollars 
 and a half an acre. It is astonishing, that this is never 
 done in England ! For, though it is generally said, 
 that the Ruta Baga will stand any weather ; I know, by 
 experience, that it will not stand any weather. The 
 winter of the year 1814, that is to say, the months of 
 January and February, were very cold, and a great 
 deal of snow fell ; and, in a piece of twelve acres, I 
 had, in the month of March, two thirds of the turnips 
 completely rotten ; and these were amongst the finest 
 that I ever grew, many of them weighing twelve pounds 
 each. Besides, when taken up in dry weather, before 
 the freezings and tha^vings begin, the dirt all falls off; 
 and the bulbs are clean and nice to be given to cat- 
 tle or sheep in the stalls or yards. For, though we 
 in general feed off these roots upon the land with sheep, 
 we cannot, in deep land, always do it. The land is 
 too wet; and particularly for ewes and lambs, which 
 are, in such cases, brought into a piece of pasture land, 
 or into a fold-yard, where the turnips are flung down 
 to them in a dirty state, just carted from the field. And, 
 again, the land is very much injured, and the labour 
 augmented, by carting when the ground is a sort of 
 mud-heap, or rather, pool. All these inconveniences 
 and injuries would be avoided by harvesting in a dry 
 day in November, if such a day should, by an acci- 
 dent, be found in England ; but, why not do the work 
 E 5
 
 82 RuTA Baga culture. [Part I. 
 
 in October, and sow wheat, at once, in the land 1 More 
 on this after-cropping, another time. 
 
 113. In Long Island, and throughout the United 
 States, where the weather is so fine in the fall ; where 
 every day, from the middle of October to the end of 
 November (except a rainy day about once in 16 days), 
 is as fair as the fairest May-day in England, and where 
 such a thing as a water-furrow in a field was never 
 heard of; in such a soil as this, and under such a cli- 
 ma e as this, there never can arise any diflRculty in the 
 way of the harvesting of turnips in proper time. I 
 should certainly do it in November; for, as we have 
 seen, a little frost does not affect the bulbs at all. I 
 would put them in when perfectly dry ; make my heaps 
 of about fifty bushels ; and, when the frosts approached, 
 I mean the hard frosts, 1 would cover with corn-stalks, 
 or straw, or cedar boughs, as many of the heaps as I 
 thought I should want in January and February ; for, 
 these coverings would so break the frost, as to enable 
 me to open the heaps in those severe months. Jt is 
 useless and inconvenient to take into barns, or out- 
 houses, a very large quantity at a time. Besides, if 
 left uncovered, the very hard frosts will do them harm. 
 To be sure, this is easily prevented, in the barn, by 
 throwing a little straw over the heap ; but, being, by 
 the means that f have pointed out, always kept ready 
 in the field, to bring in a larger quantity than is used 
 in arceek, or thereabouts, would be wholly unnecessary, 
 besides being troublesome from the great space, whiai 
 would thus be occupied. 
 
 1 14. It is a great advantage in the cultivation of this 
 crop, that the sowing, or transplanting time, comes 
 after all the spring grain and the Indian Corn are safe 
 in the ground, and before the harvest of grain begins; 
 and then again, in the fall, the taking up of the roots 
 comes after the grain and corn, and buck-wheat har- 
 vests, and even after the sowing of the winter grain. In 
 short, it seems to me, that the cultivation of this crop, 
 in this country, comes, as it were expressly, to fill up 
 the unemployed spaces of the farmer's time ; but, if he 
 prefer standing with arms folded, during these spaces 
 of lime, and hearing his flock bleat themselves half
 
 Chap II.] RiTTA Baga culture. 6ft 
 
 to death ill March and April, or have no flock, and 
 scarcely any cattle ov hogs, raise a few loads of yard- 
 dung, and travel five miles for ashes, and buy them dear 
 at the end of the five miles ; if he prefer these, then, 
 certainly, I shall ha\'e 'wi'itten on this subject in vain. 
 
 Quantity of the Crop. 
 
 115. It is impossible for me to say, at present, what 
 quantity of Ruta Baga may be grown on an acre of 
 land in this Island. My three acres o{ ridged turnips, 
 sown on the 26th of June, were very unequal, but, upon 
 one of the acres, there were six hundred and forty bush- 
 els ; I mean heaped bushels ; that is to sav, an English 
 statute bushel heaped as long as the commoditv will lie 
 on. The transplanted turnips yiekled about four hun- 
 dred bushels to the acre ; but then, observe, they were 
 put in a full month too late. This year, I shall make 
 a fair trial. 
 
 116. I have given an account of my raising, upoiv 
 five acres in one field, and twelve acres in another 
 field, one thousand tliree hundred and twenty bushels 
 to an acre, throughout the seventeen acres. I have no 
 doubt of equalling tiiat quantity on this Island, and 
 that, too, upon some of its poorest and most exhausted 
 land. They tell me, indeed, that the la.st summer was 
 a remarkably fine summer ; so they said at Botley, 
 M'hen I had my first prodigious crop of Ruta Baga. 
 This is the case in all the pursuits of life. The mo- 
 ment a man excels those, who ought to be able and 
 willing to do as well as he ; that moment, others set to 
 work to discover causes for his success, other than those 
 proceeding from himself. But, as I used to tell my 
 neighbours at Botley, they have had the same seasons 
 that I have had. Nothing is so impartial as weather. 
 As long as this sort of observation, or inquiry, proceeds 
 from a spirit r>^ emulation, it may be treated with great 
 indulgence ; l)ut, when it discovers a spirit of envy, it 
 becomes detestable, and especially in affairs of agri- 
 culture, where the appeal is made to our common Pa- 
 rent, and where no man's success can be injurious to 
 his neighbour, while it must be a benefit to his countrv ,
 
 84 RuTA Baga culture. [Part. I. 
 
 or the country in which the success takes place. I 
 must, however, say, and 1 say it with leehngs of great 
 pleasure, as well as from a sense of justice, that I have 
 observed in the American fanners 710 envy of the kind 
 alluded to ; but, on the country, the greatest satisfac- 
 tion, at my success ; and not the least backwardness, 
 but great forwardness, to applaud and admire my mode 
 of cultivating these crops. Not so, in England, where 
 the farmers (generally the most stupid as well as most 
 slavish and most churlish part of the nation) envy all who 
 excel them, while they are too obstinate to profit from 
 the example of those whom they envy. I say generally; 
 for there are many most honourable exceptions ; and, 
 it is amongst that class of men that I have my dearest 
 and most esteemed friends ; men of knowledge, of ex- 
 perience, of integrity, and of public-spirit, equal to that 
 of the best of Englishmen in the worst times of oppres- 
 sion, 1 would not exchange the friendship of one of 
 these men for that of all the Lords that ever were cre- 
 ated, though there are some of them very able and up- 
 right men, too, 
 
 117. Then, if I may be suffered to digress a little 
 further here, there exists, in England, an institution, 
 which has caused a sort of identity of agricultitre with 
 politics. The Board of Agriculture, estabhshed by 
 Pitt for the purpose of sending spies about the countrv, 
 under the guise of Agricultural surveyors, in order to 
 Jearn the cast of men's politics as well as the taxable 
 capacities of their farms and property; this Board 
 gives no premium or praise to any but " loyal farmers," 
 who are generally the greatest fools. 1, for ray part, 
 have never had any communication with it. It was 
 always an object of ridicule and contempt with me ; 
 but, 1 know this to be the ride of that body, M'hich is, 
 in fact, only a little twig of the vast tree of corruption, 
 which stunts, and blights, and blasts, all that ap- 
 proaches its poisoned purlieu. This Board has for its 
 Secretary, Mr. Arthur Young, a man of great talents, 
 bribed from his good principles by this place of five 
 hundred pounds a year. But Mr. Young, though a 
 most able man, is not always to be trusted. He is a 
 bold asserter ; and very few of his statements proceed
 
 Chap. II.] RpTA Baga culture. 8S 
 
 upon actual experiments. And, as to what this Board 
 has published, at the public expense, under the name 
 of Communications, I defy the world to match it as a 
 mass of illiterate, unintelligible, useless trash. The 
 only paper, published by this Board, that I ever thought 
 worth keeping, was an account of the produce from a 
 single cow, communicated by Mr. Cramp, the jail- 
 keeper of the County of Sussex ; which contained very 
 interesting and wonderful facts, properly authenticated, 
 and stated in a clear manner. 
 
 118. Arthur Young is blind, and never attends the 
 Board. Indeed, sorrowful to relate, he is become a 
 religious fanatic, and this in so desperate a degree as 
 to leave no hope of any possible cure. In the pride of 
 our health and strength, of mind as well as of body, we 
 little dream of the chances and changes of old age. 
 Who can read the " 2 ravels in France, Spai7i, and 
 Italy," and reflect on the present state of the admirable 
 writer's mind, without feeling some diffidence as to 
 what may happen to himself. 
 
 119. Lord Hardwicke, who is now the President 
 of the Board, is a man, not exceeding my negro, either 
 in experience or natural abilities. A parcel of court- 
 sycophants are the Vice-Presidents. Their committees 
 and correspondents are a set of justices of the peace, 
 nabobs become country-gentlemen, and parsons of the 
 worst description. And thus is this a mere political 
 job ; a channel for the squandering of some thousands 
 a year of the people's money upon worthless men, who 
 ought to be working in the fields, or mending " His 
 Majesty's Highways." 
 
 120. Happily, politics, in this country, have nothing 
 to do with agriculture ; and here, therefore, I think I 
 have a chance to be fairly heard. I should, indeed, 
 have been heard in England ; but, I really could never 
 bring myself to do any thing tending to improve the 
 estates of the oppressors oi" my country ; and the same 
 consideration now restrains me from communicating 
 information, on the subject of timber trees, which woulJl 
 be of immense benetit to England ; and which infor- 
 mation 1 shall reserve, till the tyranny shall be at an 
 end. Castlereagh, in the fullness of liis stupidity, pro-
 
 SB RuTA Baqa culture. [Parti. 
 
 posed, that, in order to find employment for *' the po- 
 pulation," as he insolently called the people of England, 
 he would set "them to di»; holes one day and fill them up 
 the next. I could tell him what to pln?it in the holes, 
 so as to benefit the country in an immense degree ; but, 
 like the human body in some complaints, the nation 
 would now be really injured by the communications 
 of what, if it were in a. healthy state, would do it good, 
 add to its strength, and to all its means of exertion. 
 
 121. To return from this digression, I am afraid of 
 no bad seasons. TI.e drought, which is the great enemy 
 to be dreaded in this country, I am quite prepared for. 
 Give me ground that 1 can plough ten or twelve inches 
 deep, and give me Indian corn spaces to plough in, and 
 1)0 sun can burn me up. 1 have mentioned Mr. Cur- 
 wen's experiment before ; or, rather Tull's ; for he it 
 is, who made' all the discoveries of this kind. Let any 
 man, just to try, leave half a rod of ground undng from 
 the month of May to that of October ; and another half 
 rod let him dig and break fne every ten or fifteen days. 
 Then, whenever there has been fifteen days of good 
 scorching sun, let him go and dig a hole in each. If 
 he does not find the hard ground dry as dust, and the 
 other moist ; then let him say, that I know nothing about 
 these matters. So erroneous is the common notion, that 
 ploughing in, dry iveather lets in the droxight ! 
 
 122. Of course, proceeding upon this fact, which I 
 state as the result of numerous experiments, I should, 
 if ^^sited with long droughts, give one or two additional 
 ploughings between the crops when growing. That is 
 all ; and, with this, in Long Island, I defy all droughts. 
 
 123. But, why need I insist upon this effect of plough- 
 ino- in dry weather ? Why need I insist on it in an 
 Indian corn country ? Who has not seen fields of Indian 
 corn looking, to-day, yellow and sickly, and, in four 
 days hence (the weather being dry all the while), look- 
 ino^ (^reen and flourishing; and this wonderful etfect 
 pr'oduced merely by the plough .-* Why, then, should 
 not the same effect always proceed from the same 
 cause \ The deeper you plough, the greater the effect, 
 however; for there is a greater body of earth to exhale 
 from, and to receive back the tribute of the atmosphere. 
 Mr. CuRAVEN tells us of a piece of cattle-cabbages. In
 
 Chap II,] RuTA Baga culture. fly 
 
 a very dry time in July, they looked so yellow and 
 blue, that he almost despaired of them. He sent in his 
 plou2;hs ; and a gentleman, who had seen them when 
 the ploughs went in on the Monday, could scarcely be- 
 lieve his eyes when he saw them on the next Saturday, 
 though it had continued dry all the week. 
 
 124. To perform these summer ploughings, in this 
 island, is really nothing. The earth is so light and in 
 such fine order, and so easily displaced and replaced. 
 I used one horse for the purpose, last summer, and a 
 very slight horse indeed. An ox is, however,, better 
 for this work ; and this may be accomplished by the 
 use of a collar and two traces, or by a sinyle yoke and 
 two traces. Till recommends tlie hitter ; and 1 shall 
 try it for Indian corn as well as for turnips.* Horses, 
 
 ♦ Since the above paragraph was written, I have made a 
 single-ox-j/oke : and, I find it answer excellently well. Now, 
 my work is much shortened ; tor, in forming ridges, two oxen 
 are awkward. They occupy a wide space, and one of them is 
 ohliged to walk upon the ploughed land, which, besides making 
 the ridge uneven at top, presses the ground, which is injurious. 
 For ploughing between the rows of turnips and Indian corn 
 also, what a great convenience this will be! An ox goes 
 steadier tiian a horse, and will plough deeper, without fretting 
 and without tearing; and he wants neitiier harness-maker nor 
 {•room. The plan of my yoke I took from Tull. I showed it 
 to my workman, who chopped off the limb of a tree, and made 
 the yoke in an hour. It is a piece of wood, with two holes to 
 receive two ropes, about three quarters of an iuch in diameter. 
 These traces are fastened into the yoke merely by a knot, which 
 prevents the ends from passing though the holes, while the 
 other ends are fastened to the two ends of a fViffle-tree, as it is 
 called in Long Island, of a Wipple-tree as it is called in Kent, 
 and of a fVippance, as it is called in Hampshire. I am but a 
 poor draftsman; but, if tlie printer can iind any thing to make 
 the rejiresentation with, the following draft will clearly show 
 what 1 have meant to describe in words — 
 
 "When
 
 88 RuTA Baga culture. [PartL 
 
 if they are strong enough, are not so steady as oxen, 
 which are more patient also, and with which you may 
 send the plough-share doion without any of the fretting 
 and unequal pulling, or jerking, that you have to en- 
 counter with horses. And, as to the sloiv pace of the 
 ox, it is the old story of the tortoise and the hare. If 
 I had known, in England, of the use of oxen, what I 
 have been taught upon Long Island, I might have 
 saved myself some hundreds of pounds a year. I 
 ought to have followed Tull in this as in all other part* 
 of his manner of cultivating land. But, in our country, 
 it is difficult to get a ploughman to look at an ox. In 
 this Island the thing is done so completely and so ea- 
 sily, that it was, to me, quite wonderful to behold. To 
 see one of these Long-Islanders going into the field, or 
 orchard, at sun-rise, with his yoke in his hand, call 
 his oxen by name to come and put their necks under 
 the yoke, drive them before him to the plough, just 
 hitch a hook on to the ring of the yoke, and then, with- 
 out any thing except a single chain and the yoke, with 
 no reins, no halter, no traces, no bridle, no driver, set 
 to plough, and plough a good acre and a half in the day. 
 To see this would make an English farmer stare ; and 
 well it might, when he looked back to the ceremonious 
 and expensive business of keeping and managing a 
 plough-team in England. 
 
 125. These are the means, which I would, and which 
 I shall, use, to protect my crops against the effects of a 
 dry season. So that, as every one has the same means 
 at his command, no one need to be afraid of drought. 
 It is a bright plough-share that is always wanted much 
 more than the showers. With this culture there is no 
 fear of a crop ; and though it amount to only five hun- 
 dred bushels on an acre, what crop is half so valuable ? 
 
 126. The bulk of crop, however, in the broad-cast, 
 or random method, may be materially affected by 
 
 When the corn (Indian) and turnips get to a size, suflncient 
 to attract the appetite of the ox, yoii have only to put on a 
 muzzle. This is what Mr. Tull did ; for, though we ought 
 not to muzzle the ox " as he treadeth out the com," we may do 
 it, even for his own sake, amongst other considerations, when 
 iie is assisting iis tp bring the crop to perfection.
 
 Chap. 11.] Rota Baga culture. 89 
 
 drought; for in that case, the plough cannot come to 
 supply the place of showers. The ground there will 
 be dry, and keep dry in a dry time ; as in the case of 
 the supposed half rod of undug ground in the garden. 
 The weeds, too, Avill come and help by their roots, to 
 suck the moisture out of the ground. As to the haud- 
 hoeings, they may keep down weeds to be sure, and 
 they raise a trifling portion of exhalation ; but, it is 
 trifling indeed. Dry Aveather, if of long continuation, 
 makes the leaves become of a bluish colour ; and, when 
 this is once the case, all the rain and all the fine wea- 
 ther in the world will never make the crop a good one ; 
 because the plough cannot move amidst this scene of 
 endless irregidarity. This is one of the chief reasons 
 why the ridge method is best. 
 
 Uses of, and Mode of applying, the Crop. 
 
 127. It is harder to say what uses this root may not 
 be put to, than what uses it may be put to, in the feed- 
 ing of animals. It is eaten greedily by sheep, horn- 
 cattle, and hogs, in its raw state. Boiled, or steamed, 
 (which is better), no dog that I ever saw will refuse it. 
 Poultry of all sorts will live upon it in its cooked state. 
 Some dogs will even eat it raw ; a fact that I first be- 
 came acquainted with by perceiving my Shepherd's 
 dog eating in the field along with the sheep. I have 
 two Spaniels that come into the barn and eat it now ; 
 and yet they are both in fine condition. Some horses 
 will nearly live upon it in the raw state ; others are not 
 so fond ol it. 
 
 128. Let me give an account of what I am doing now 
 (in the month of April) with my crop. 
 
 129. It is not pretended, that this root, measure for 
 measure, is equal to Indian corn in the ear. Therefore, 
 as I can get Indian com in the ear for half a dollar a 
 bushel, and, as I sell my Ruta Baga for half a dollar 
 a bushel at New York, I am very sparing of the use 
 of the latter for animals. Indeed, I use none at home, 
 except such as have been injured, as above-mentioned, 
 by the delay in the hanesting. These damaged root* 
 I apply in the following manner.
 
 ^ RuTA Baca culttuie. [Parti. 
 
 130. Tmce a day I take about two bushels, and scatter 
 them about upon the grass for fifteen ewes with their 
 lambs, and a few wether sheep, and for seven stout 
 store pigs, which eat with them. Once a day I fling 
 out a parcel of the refuse that have been cut from the 
 roots sent to market, along with cabbage leaves and 
 stems, parsnips, fibres, and the like. Here tlie work- 
 ing oxen, hogs, cows, sheep, and fowls, all feed as they 
 please. All these animals are in excellent condition. 
 The cow^ has no other food ; the working oxen a lock 
 of hay twice a day ; the ewes an ear of Indian corn 
 each ; the pigs nothing but the roots ; the foAvls and 
 ducks and turkeys are never fed in any other way, 
 though they know how to feed themselves whenever there 
 is any thing good to be found above ground. 
 
 131. I am iveaning some pigs, which, as every one 
 knows, is an affair of milk and meal. I have neither. 
 I give about three buckets of boiled Ruta Baga to seven 
 ■pigs every day, not having any convenience for steam- 
 ing; two baits oi Indian corn in the ear. And, with 
 this diet, increasing the quantity with the growth of 
 the pigs, I expect to turn them out of the sty fatter (if 
 that be possible) than they entered it. Now, if this be 
 so, every farmer will say, that this is what never w^as 
 done before in America. We all know how important 
 a thing it is to tcean a pig ivell. Any body can wean 
 them Avithout milk awA meal; but, then, the pigs are 
 good for nothing. They remain three months after- 
 wards and never grow an inch ; and they are, indeed, 
 not worth having. To have milk, you must have cows, 
 and cows are vast consumers ! To have cows, you must 
 have female labour, which, in America, is a very pre- 
 cious commodity. You cannot haA'e meal without 
 sharing in kind pretty liberal with the miller, besides 
 bestowing labour, however busy you may be, to 
 carry the corn to mill and bring the meal back. 
 I am, however, speaking here of the pigs from my 
 English breed ; thoiigh I am far from supposing that 
 the common pigs might not be Aveaned in the same way. 
 
 132. Soica u-ith young pigs I feed thus : boiled Ruta 
 Baga twice a day. About three ears of Indian corn 
 a piece twice a day. As much offal Ruta Baga raw
 
 Chap. II.] RuTA Baca culture. 91 
 
 as they will eat. Amongst this boiled Ruta Baga, the 
 pot-liquor of the house goes, of course ; but, then, the 
 dogs, I dare say, take care that the best shall fall to 
 their lot ; and as there are four of them pretty fat, their 
 share cannot be very small. Every one knows what 
 good food, how much meal and milk are necessary to 
 sows which have pigs. 1 have no milk, for my cow 
 has not yet calved. And, then, what a chance concern 
 this is ; for, the soavs may perversely have pigs at the 
 time when the cows do not please to give milk; or, ra- 
 ther, when they, poor things, without any fault of theirs, 
 are permitted to go dry, which never need be, and never 
 ought to be the case. I had a cow ?once that made 
 more than two pounds of butter during the week, and 
 had a calf on the Saturday night. Cows always ought 
 to be milked to the very day of their calving, and dur- 
 ing the whole time of their suckling their calves. But, 
 " sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." Let us 
 leave this matter till another time. Having, however, 
 accidentally mentioned eoics, I Avill just observe, that 
 in the little publication of Mr. Cramp, mentioned above, 
 as having been printed by the Board of Agriculture, it 
 was stated and the proof given, that his single cow gave 
 him, clear profit, for several successive years, more 
 than jfiftij pounds sterling a year, or upAvards of tico 
 hundred and ticenty dollars. This was clear profit ; 
 reckoning the food and labour, and taking credit for the 
 calf, the butter, and for the skim-milk at a penny a 
 quart only. Mr. Cramp's was a Sussex cow. Mine 
 were of the Alderney breed. Little small-boned things; 
 but, two of my cows, fed upon three quarters of an, 
 aci'e of grass ground, in the middle of my shrubbery, 
 and fastened to pins in the ground, which were shifted 
 twice a-day, made three hundred pounds of hitter from 
 the 28th of March to the 27th of June. This is a finer 
 country for cattle than England; and yet, what do I see! 
 133. This difficulty about feeding sows with young 
 pigs and weaning pigs, is one of the greatest hinder- 
 ances to improvement ; for, after all, Avhat animal 
 produces flesh meat liive the hog? Applicable to all 
 uses, either fresh or salted, is the meat. Good in all its 
 various shapes. The animal killable at all ages.
 
 02 RuTA Baga culture. [Part I. 
 
 Quickly fatted. Good if half fat. Capable of sup- 
 porting an immense burden of fat. Demanding but 
 liitle space for its accommodation ; and yet, if grain 
 and corn and milk are to be their principal food, dur- 
 ing their lives, they cannot multiply very fast ; because 
 many upon a farm cannot be kept to much profit. But, 
 if, by providing a sufficiency of Ruta Baga, a hundred 
 pigs could be raised upon a farm in a year, and car- 
 ried on till fatting time, they would be worth, when 
 ready to go into the fatting sty, fifteen dollars each. 
 This would be something worth attending to ; and the 
 farm must become rich from the manure. The Ruta 
 Baga, taken out of the heaps early in April, will keep 
 well and sound all the summer; and with a run in an 
 orchard, or in a grassy place, it will keep a good sort of 
 hog always in a very thriving, and esen fleshy state. 
 
 134. This root, being called a turnip, is regarded as 
 a turnip, as a common turnip, than which nothing can 
 be much less resembling it. The common turnip is a 
 very poor thing. The poorest of all the roots of the 
 bulb kind, cultivated in the fields ; and the Ruta Baga, 
 all taken together, is, perhaps, the very best. It loses 
 none of its good qualities by being long kept, though 
 dry all the while. A neighbour of mine in Hampshire, 
 having saved a large piece of Ruta Baga for seed, and 
 having, after harvesting the seed, accidently thrown 
 some of the roots into his yard, saw his hogs eat these 
 old roots, which had borne the seed. He gave them 
 some more, and saw that they ate them greedil}'. He, 
 therefore, went and bought a whole drove, in number 
 about forty, of lean pigs, of a good large size, brought 
 them into his yard, carted in the roots of his seed Ruta 
 Baga, and, without having given the pigs a handful of 
 any other sort of food, sold out his pigs as fat porkers. 
 And, indeed, it is a fact well known, that sheep and 
 cattle, as well as hogs, will thrive upon this root after 
 it has borne seed, which is what, I believe, can be said 
 of no other root or plant. 
 
 135, When we feed off our Ruta Baga in the fields, 
 in England, by sheep, there are small parts left by the 
 sheep : the shells which they have left after scooping 
 put the pulp of the bulb ; the tap-root ; and other little
 
 Chap. II.] RpTA Baua culture. 9d 
 
 bits. These are picked out of the ground, and when 
 washed by the rain, other sheep follow and live upon 
 them. Or, in default of other sheep, hogs or cattle 
 are turned in in dry weather, and they leave not a 
 morsel. 
 
 136. Nor are the f/reens to be forgotten. In Eng- 
 land, they are generally eate)i by the sheep, when they 
 are turned in upon them. When the roots are taken 
 up for uses at the home-stead, the greens are given to 
 store-pigs and lean cattle. I cut mine off, while the 
 roots were in the ground, and gave them to fatting 
 cattle upon grass land, alternately with Indian corn in 
 the ear ; and, in this way, they are easily and most 
 profitably applied, and they come too, just after the 
 grass is gone from the pastures. An acre produces 
 about four good wagon loads of greens ; and they are 
 taken off fresh and fresh as they are wanted, and, at 
 the same time, the roots are thus made ready for going 
 at once, into the heaps. Pigs, sheep, cattle ; all like 
 the greens as well as they do the roots. Try any of 
 them with the greens of white turnips ; and, if they 
 touch them, they will have changed their natures, or, 
 at least, their tastes. 
 
 137. The Mangel Wurzel, the cabbage, the carrot, 
 and the parsnip, are all useful , and the latter, that is 
 to say, the parsnip, very valuable indeed ; but the 
 main cattle-crop is the Ruta Baga. Even the white 
 turnip, if well cultivated, may be of great use ; and, as 
 it admits of being sown later, it may often be very de- 
 sirable to raise it. But reserving myself to speak fully, 
 in a future part of my work, of my experiments as to 
 these crops, I shall now make a short enquiry as to the 
 value of a crop of Ruta Baga, compared with the value 
 of any other crop. I will just observe, in this place, 
 however, that I have grown finer carrots, parsnips, and 
 Mangle Wurzel, and even finer cabbages, than I ever 
 grew upon the richest land in Hampshire, though not 
 .a seed of any of them was put into the ground till the 
 month of June. 
 
 138. A good mode, it appears to me, of making my 
 proposed comparative estimate, will be to say, how I 
 would proceed, supposing me to have a farm otmy own
 
 64 RuTA Baga culture. [Part I. 
 
 in this island, of only one hundred acres. If there were 
 not twelve acres of orchard near the house, I Avould 
 throw as much grass land to the orchard as would make 
 up the twelve acres, which 1 coidd fence in an effec- 
 tual manner against small pigs as well as large oxen. 
 
 139. Having done this, I would take care to have 
 fifteen acres of good Indian corn, well planted, well 
 suckered, and Avell tilled in all respects. Good, deep 
 ploughing between the plants would give me forty 
 bushels of shelled corn to an acre ; and a ton to the 
 acre of fodder for my four working oxen and three 
 cows, and my sheep and hogs, of which I shall speak 
 presently. 
 
 140. i would have Uvelve acres of Ruta Baga, tliree 
 acres of early cabbages, an acre of Mangel Wurzel, 
 an acre of carrots and parsnips, and as many white tur- 
 nips as would grow between my rows of Indian corn 
 after my last ploughing of that crop. 
 
 141. With these crops, which would occupy thirty- 
 two acres of ground, I should not fear being able to 
 keep a good house in all sorts of meat, together with 
 butter and milk, and to send to market nine quarters 
 of beef and three hides, a hundred early fat lambs, a 
 hundred hogs, weighing twelve score, as wg call it in 
 Hampshire, or, two hundred and ibrty pounds each, 
 and a hundred fat ewes. These altogether, would 
 amount to about three thousand dollars, exclusive of 
 the cost of a hundred ewes and of three oxen ; I should 
 hope, that the produce of my trees in the orchard and 
 of the other fifty-six acres of my farm Avould pay the 
 rent and the labour ; for, as to taxes, the amount is 
 not worth naming, especially after the sublime spec- 
 tacle of that sort, which the world beholds in England. 
 
 142. I am, you will perceive, not making any ac- 
 count of the price of Ruta Baga, cabbages, carrots, 
 parsnips, and white turnips at New York, or any other 
 market. 1 7ioiv, indeed, sell carrots and parsnips at 
 three quarters of a dollar the hundred, by tale ; cab- 
 bages (of last fall) at about three dollars a hundred, and 
 white turnips at a quarter of a dollar a bushel. When 
 this can be done, and the distance is within twenty or 
 thirty miles on the best road in the tvorld, it will, of j
 
 Chap. II.] Rlta Baga cultwre. 95 
 
 course, be done ; but, my calculations are built upon 
 a supposed consumption of the whole upon the farm by 
 animals of one sort or another. 
 
 143. My feedina; would be nearly as follows. I 
 will begin with February, for, until then, the Ruta 
 Baga does not come to its sweetest taste. It is like an 
 apple, that must have time to ripen ; but, then, it re- 
 tains its goodness much longer. I have proved, and 
 especially in the feeding of hogs, that the Ruta Baga 
 is never so good, till it arrives at a mature state. In 
 February, aiul about the first of that month, 1 should 
 begin bringing in my Ruta Baga, in the manner before 
 described. My three oxen, which would have been 
 brought forward by other food, to be spoken of by and 
 by, woidd be tied up in a stall looking into one of those 
 fine conmiodious barn's floors which Ave have upon this 
 island. Their stall should be tvarip, and they should 
 be kept well littered, and cleaned out frequently. The 
 Ruta Baga just chopped into large pieces with a spade 
 or shovel, and tossed into the manger to the oxen at 
 the^rate of about two bushels a day to each ox, would 
 make them completely fat, Avithout the aid of corn, hay, 
 or any other thing. I should, probably, kill one ox at 
 Christmas, and, in that case, he must have had a longer 
 time than the others upon other food. If I killed one 
 of the two remaining oxen in the middle of March, and 
 the other on the first of May, they Avould consume 266 
 bushels of Ruta Baga. 
 
 144. My hundred ewes Avould begin upon Ruta 
 Baga at the same time, and, as my grass ground would 
 be only twelve acres until after luiA-tinie, I shall sup> 
 pose them to be fed on this root till July, and they 
 Avill always eat it and thrive on it. They Avill eat 
 about eight pounds each, a day; so that, for 150 days 
 it would require a hundred and twenty thousand pounds 
 weight, or two thousand four hundred bushels. 
 
 145. Fourteen breeding sows to be kept all the year 
 round, Avould bring a hundred pigs in the spring, and 
 they and their pigs Avould, during the same 150 days, 
 consume much about the same ((uantity ; for, though 
 the pigs Avould be small during these 150 days, yet 
 they eat a great deal more than sheep in proportion to
 
 96 RuTA Baga culture. [Part I. 
 
 their size, or rather bulk. However, as they would 
 eat very little during the first 60 days ot" their age, 1 have 
 rather over-rated their consumption. 
 
 146. Three cows and four worlung oxen would, dur- 
 ing the 150 days, consume about one thousand bushels, 
 which, indeed, would be more than sufficient, because, 
 during a great part of the time, they would more than 
 half live upon corn-stalks; and, indeed, this, to a cer- 
 tain extent, would be the case with the sheep. How- 
 ever, as I mean that every thing should be of a good 
 size, and live well, I make ample provision. 
 
 147. I should want, then, to raise^ve hundred bushels 
 of Ruta Baga upon each of my twelve acres; and why 
 should I not do it, seeing that I have this year raised 
 six hundred and forty bushels upon an acre, under cir- 
 cumstances such as I have stated them ? I lay it down, 
 therefore, that, with a culture as good as that "of Indian 
 corn, any man may, on this island (where corn will 
 grow) have 500 bushels to the acre. 
 
 148. I am now come to the first of July. My oxen 
 are fatted and disposed of. My lambs are gone to 
 market, the last of them a month ago. My pigs are 
 weaned and of a good size. And now my Ruta Baga is 
 gone. But my ewes, kept well through the winter, will 
 soon be fat upon the 12 acres of orchard and the hay- 
 ground, aided by my three acres of early cabbages, 
 which are now fit to begin cutting, or, rather, pulling 
 up. The weight of this crop may be made very great 
 indeed. Ten thousand plants will stand upon an acre, 
 in four feet ridges, and every plant ought to weigh three 
 pounds at least. I have shewn before how advantage- 
 ously Ruta Baga transplanted would follow these cab- 
 bages, all through the months of July and August. But 
 what a crop of Buck-icheat would follow such of the 
 cabbages as came off in July ! My cabbages, together 
 with my hay-fields and grain-fields after harvest, and 
 about forty or fifty wagon loads of Ruta Baga greens 
 would carry me along well till December (the cabbages 
 being planted a different times) ; for my ewes would be 
 sold fat in July, and my pigs would be only increasing in 
 demand for food j and the new hundred ewes need not,
 
 Chap. II.] RuTA Baga culture. 97 
 
 and ought not, to be kept so wallas if they were fatting, 
 or had lambs by their side. 
 
 149. From the first of December to the first of Fe- 
 bruary, Mangel Wurzel and white turnips would keep 
 the sheep and cattle and breeding sows plentifully; for 
 the latter will live well upon Mangel Wurzel ; and my 
 hundred hogs, intended for fatting, would be much more 
 than /dflZ/'fat upon the carrots and parsnips. I should, 
 however, more probably keep my parsnips till Spring, 
 and mix the feeding with carrots Avith the fieeding with 
 corn, for the first month or fifteen days, with regard to 
 the fatting hogs. None of these hogs Mould require 
 more than three bushels of corn eacli to finish them 
 completely. My other three hundred bushels would be 
 ibr sows giving suck ; tlie ewes, now and then in wet 
 weather ; and for other occasional purposes. 
 
 1.50. Thus all my haij and oats, and wheat and rye 
 might be sold, leaving me the slraw lor litter. These, 
 surely, would pay tlie rent and the labour; and, if I 
 am told, that I have taken no account of the mutton, 
 and lamb, and pork, that my house would demand, 
 neither have I taken any account of « hundred summer 
 pi(/s, which the fourteen sows Avould have, and which 
 would hardly fail to bring two hundred dollars. Poul- 
 try demand some food; but three parts of their raisin*' 
 consists of care; and, if I had nobody in my house to 
 bestow this care, I should, oi' course, have the less num- 
 ber of mouths to feed. 
 
 1.51. But, my horses ! Will not they swallow my hay 
 and my oatsf INo : for I want no horses. But, am 1 
 never to take a ride then ? Aye, but if I ilo, I have no 
 right to lay the expense of it to the account of the far7n. 
 1 am speaking of how a man may live by and upon a 
 
 farm. If a merchant spend a thousand a year, and 
 gain a thousand, does he say, that his traffic has gained 
 him nothing I Wlien men lose money hy farming, a.s 
 they call it, they forget, that it is not the farming, but 
 other expenses that take away their money. It is, in 
 fact, tliey that rob the farm, and not the farm them. 
 Horses may be kept for the purposes of going to church, 
 or to meeting, or to pay visits. In many cases this 
 may be not only conyenient, but necessary, to a family; 
 F
 
 98 RuTA Baga culture, [Part I. 
 
 but, upon this Island, I am very sure, that it is neither 
 convenient nor necessary to a farm. " ^Vhat ! " the 
 ladies will say, " would you have us to be shut up at 
 home all our lives; or be dragged about by oxen?" 
 By no means ; not 1 ! I should be very sorry to be 
 thought the author of any such advice. I have no sort 
 of objection to the keeping of horses upon a farm; but, 
 I do insist upon it, that all the food and manual la- 
 bour required by such horses, ought to be considered 
 as so much taken from the clear profits of the farm. 
 
 152. I have made sheep, and particularly lambs, 
 a part of my supposed stock ; but, I do not know, that 
 I should keep any beyond what might be useful for my 
 house. Hogs are the most profitable stock, if 30U 
 have a large quantity of the food that they Avill thrive 
 on. They are yb?fZ feeders; but, they will eat nothing that 
 is poor in its nature ; that is to say, they will not thrive 
 on it. They are the most able tasters in all the crea- 
 tion ; and, that which they like best, you may be quite 
 sure has the greatest proportion of nutritious matter in 
 it, from a white turnip to a piece of beef. They will 
 prefer meat to corn, and cooked meat to raw ; they will 
 leave parsnips for corn or grain ; they will leave carrots 
 for parsnips ; they will leave Ruta Baga for carrots ; 
 they will leave cabbages for Ruta Baga; they will 
 leave Mangel Wurzel for cabbages; they will" leave 
 potatoes (both being raAV) for Mangel Wurzel. A white 
 turnip they will not touch, unless they be on the point 
 of starving. They are the best of triers. Whatever 
 they prefer is sure to be the richest thing within their 
 reach. The parsnip is, by many degrees, the richest 
 root ; but, the seed lies long in the ground ; the sowing 
 and after-culture are works of great niceness. The 
 crop is large with good cultivation , but, as a main 
 crop, I prefer the Ruta Baga, of which the crop is im- 
 mense, and the harvesting, and preserving, and appli- 
 cation of which, are so easy. 
 
 153. The farm I suppose to be in fair condition to 
 start with ; the usual grass seeds soAvn, and so forth ; 
 and every farmer will see, that, under my system, it 
 must soon become rich as any garden need to be, with- 
 out my sending men and liorses to the water-side to
 
 Chap. II.] RuTA Baga cultuiie. 99 
 
 fetch ashes, which have been brought from Boston or 
 Charleston, an ha erage distance of seven hundred miles! 
 In short, my stock Avould give me, in one shape or ano- 
 ther, manure to the amount, in utility, of more than a 
 thousand tons weight a year of common yard manure. 
 This would be ten tons to an acre every year. The 
 farm would, in this wa^', become more and more pro- 
 ductive ; and, as to its being too rich, I see no danger 
 of that ; for a broad-cast crop of wheat Avill, at any 
 time, tame it pretty sufficiently. 
 
 154. Very much, in nn- opinion, do those mistake 
 the matter, who strive to get a yreat breadth of land, 
 vnih the idea, that, when they have tried one field, they 
 can let it lie, and go to another. It is better to have 
 one acre of good crop, than two of bad or indiflferent. 
 If the one acre can by double the manure and double 
 the labour in tillage, be made to produce as much as 
 two other acres, the one acre is preferable, because it 
 requires only half as much fencing, and little more than 
 half as much harvesting, as two acres. There is many 
 a ten acres of land near London, that produces more 
 than any common farm of two hundred acres. My 
 garden of thi-ee quarters of an acre, produced more, in 
 value, last Summer, from June to December, than any 
 ten acres of oat land upon Long Island, though I there 
 saw as fine fields of oats as I ever saw in my life. A 
 heavy ci-op upon all the ground that I put a plough into 
 is what 1 should seek, rather than to have a great 
 quantity of laiul. 
 
 155. The business of carting manure from a distance 
 can, in very lew, if any cases, answer a profitable pur- 
 pose. If any man would give me even horse-dung at 
 the stable-door, four miles from my land, I would not 
 accept of it, on condition of fetching it. I say the same 
 of spent ashes. To manure a field of ten acres, in this 
 way, a man and two horses must be employed twenty 
 days at least, with twenty- days' wear and tear of wagon 
 and tackle. Two oxen and two men do the business ia 
 two davs, if the manure be on the spot. 
 
 156. In concluding my remarks on the subject of 
 Ruta Baga, I have to apologize for the desultory man- 
 ner in which I have treated the matter j but, I have 
 
 F2
 
 100 RuTA Baga culture. [Part I. 
 
 put the thoughts down as they occurred to me, without 
 much time for arrangement, wishing very much to get 
 this First Part into the hands of the public before the 
 arrival of the time for sowing Ruta Raga this present 
 year. In the succeeding Parts of the work, I propose 
 to treat of the cuhure of every other plant that I have 
 found to be of use upon a farm ; and also to speak 
 fully of the sorts of cattle, sheep and hogs, particularly 
 the latter. My experiments are no .• going on ; and, 
 I shall only have to communicate the result, which I 
 shall do verv faithfully, and with as much clearness as 
 I am able. "^In the meanwhile, I shall be glad to afford 
 any opportunity, to any persons who may think it worth 
 while to come to Hyde Park, of seeing how I proceed. 
 1 have just now (1 7th April) planted out my Ruta 
 Baga, Cabbages, Mangel Wurzel, Onions, Parsnips, 
 &,c. for seed. I shall begin my earth-burning in about 
 fifteen days. In short, being convinced, that I am able 
 to communicate very valuable improvements ; and not 
 knowing how short, or how long, my stay in America 
 may be, I wish very much to leave behind me what- 
 ever of good I am able, in return for the protection 
 which Aflierica has afforded me against the fangs of 
 the Boroughmongers of England; to which country, 
 however, 1 always bear affection, which I cannot feel 
 towards any other in the same degree, and the pros- 
 perity and honour of which I shall, 1 hope, never cease 
 to prefer before the gratification of all private plea- 
 sures and emoluments. 
 
 END 
 
 Of the Treatise on Ruta Baga, 
 AND OF PART I.
 
 YEAR'S RESIDENCE. 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 Containing,— III. Experiments as to Cabbages.— IV. Earth- 
 burning, —V. Transplanting Indian Corn. —VI. Swedish 
 Turnips. — VII. Potatoes. — VIII. Cows, Sheep, Hogs, and 
 Poultry.— IX. Prices of Land, Labour, M'orking Cattle, 
 Husbandry Implements.— X. Expenses of Housekeeping. — 
 
 XI. Manners, Customs, and Character of the People. — 
 
 XII. Rural Sports. — XIII. Paupers and Deggars.— 
 XIV. Government, Laws, and Religion.
 
 PREFACE 
 
 TO THE 
 
 SECOND PART. 
 
 1 57. In the First Part I adopted the mode of wini' 
 bering the paragraphs, a mode which I shall pursue to 
 the end of the work ; and, as the whole work may, at 
 the choice of the purchaser, be bound up in one volume, 
 or remain in two volumes, I have thought it best to 
 resume the numbering at the point where I stopped at 
 the close of the First Part. The last paragraph of that 
 Part was 156 : I, therefore, now begin with 157. For 
 the same reason I have, in the Second Part, resumed 
 the paging at the point where I stopped in the First Part. 
 I have, in like manner, resumed the chaptering: so 
 that, when the two Parts are put together, they will, 
 as to these matters, form but one ; and those, who may 
 have purchased the volumes separately, will possess 
 the same book, in all respects, as those, who shall 
 purchase the Three Parts in one Volume. 
 
 158. Paragraph 1. (Part I.) contains ray reasons 
 for numbering the paragraphs, but, besides the reasons 
 there stated, there is one, which did not then occur to 
 me, and which was left to be suggested by experience,
 
 106 Preface ro the Second Part. 
 
 of a description which I did not then anticipate ; 
 namely, that, in the case of" more than one edition, the 
 -paging may, and generally does, differ in such man- 
 ner as to bring the matter, which, in one edition, is under 
 any given page, under a different page in another 
 edition. This renders the work of reference very la- 
 borious at best, and, in many cases, it defeats its ob- 
 ject. If the paragraphs of Blackstone's Commenta- 
 tes had been numbered, how much valuable time it 
 would have saved ! 1 hope, that these reasons will be 
 BuflScient to convince the reader that 1 have not, in 
 this case, been actuated by a love of singularity. We 
 live to leam, and to make improvements, and every 
 improvement must, at first, be a singularity. 
 
 159, The utility, which I thought would arise from 
 the hastening out of the First Part, in June last, pre- 
 vious to the time for sowing Swedish Turnips, induced 
 jne to make an ugly breach in the order of my little 
 •work ; and, as it generally happens, that when disorder 
 is once begun, it is very difficult to restore order ; so, 
 in this case, I have been exceedingly puzzled to give to 
 the matter of these two last Parts such an arrangement 
 as should be worthy of a work, which, whatever may 
 be the character of its execution, treats of subjects of 
 great public interest. However, with the help of the 
 Index, which I shall subjoin to the Third Part, and 
 which will comprise a reference to the divers matters in 
 all the three parts, and in the making of which Judex 
 an additional proof of the advantage of numbering the 
 paragraphs has appeared ; with the help of this Index 
 the reader will, I am in hopes, be enabled to over- 
 come, without any very great trouble, the inconreniences
 
 Preface to the Second Pabt. 107 
 
 naturally arising from the want of a perfectly good ar- 
 rangement of the subjects of the work. 
 
 160. As the First Part closes with a promise to 
 communicate the result of my experiments of this 
 present year, I begin the Second Part with a fulfilment 
 of that promise, particularly with regard to the pro- 
 curing of manure by the burning of earth into ashes. 
 
 161. I then proceed with the other matters named in 
 the title ; and the Third Part I shall make to consist 
 of an account of the Western Countries, furnished 
 in the Notes of Mr. Hul.me, together with -^ view 
 of the advantages and disadvantages of preferring, as 
 a place to farm in, those Countries to the Countries 
 bordering on the Atlantic ; in which view I shall in- 
 clude such remarks as appear to me likely to be useful 
 to those English Farmers, who can .no longer bear 
 the lash of Boroughraongering oppression and in- 
 solence. 
 
 162. Multifariousness is a great fault in a written 
 work of any kind. I feel the consciousness of this 
 fault upon this occasion. The facts and opinions rela- 
 tive to Swedish Turnips and Cabbages will be very apt 
 to be enfeebled in their effect by those relating to man- 
 ners, laws and religion, IMatters so heterogeneous, 
 the one class treated of in the detail and the other in 
 the great, ought not to be squeezed together between 
 the boards of the same small volume. But, the fault is 
 committed and it is too late to repine. There are, 
 however, two subjects which I will treat of distinctly 
 hereafter. The first is that of Fencing, a subject 
 which presses itself upon the attention of tlie American 
 Farmer, but from which he turns with feelings like
 
 108 Phepace to the Second Part^ 
 
 those, with which a losing tradesman turns from an 
 examination of his books. But, attend to it he must 
 before it be long; or, his fields, in the populous parts of 
 this Island at least, must lay waste, and his fuel must be 
 brought him from Virginia or from England. Sometime 
 before March next I shall publish an Essay on Fencing. 
 The form shall correspond with that of this work, in 
 order that it may be bound up with it, if that should be 
 thought desirable. The other subject is that of Gar- 
 dening. This I propose to treat of in a small distinct 
 rolume, under some appropriate title; and, in this 
 volume, to give alphabetically, a description of all the 
 plaiits, cultivated for the use of the table and also of 
 those cultivated as cattle food. To this description I 
 shall add an account of their properties, and instructions 
 for the cultivation of them in the best manner. It is 
 not my intention to go beyond what is aptly enough 
 called the Kitchen Garden ; but, as a. hot-bed may be of 
 such great use even to the farmer ; and as ample mate- 
 rials for making beds of this sort are always at his 
 command without any expense, I shall endeavour to 
 give plain directions for the making and managing of a 
 hot-bed. A bed of this sort,'fifteen feet long, has given 
 me, this year, the better part of an acre of fine cab- 
 bages to give to hogs in the parching month of July. 
 This is so very simple a matter ; it is so very easy to 
 learn ; that there is scarcely a farmer in America, Avho 
 would not put the thing iu practice, at once, without 
 complete success, 
 
 163. Let not my countrymen, who may happen to 
 read this suppose, that these, or any other, pursuits 
 will withdraw my attention from, or slacken my zeal
 
 PhefacA to the Second Part. 109 
 
 in, that cause, which is common to us all. That cause 
 claims, and has, my first attention and best exertion ; 
 that is the business of my lite : these other pursuits are 
 my recreation. King Alfred allowed eight hours for 
 recreation, in the twenty-four, eight for sleep, and eight 
 for busi7icss. I do not take my allowance of the tMo 
 former. 
 
 164. Upon looking into the First Part, I see, that I 
 expressed a hope to be able to give, in some part of this 
 work, a sketch of the work of Mr. Tull. I have looked at 
 TvLh, and I cannot bring my mind up to the commis- 
 sion of so horrid an act as that of garbling such a work. 
 Jt was, perhaps, a feeling, such as that which I ex- 
 perience at this moment, which restrained Mr. Cur wen 
 from even naming Tull, when he gave one of Tull's 
 experiments to the Morld as a discovery of his own. 
 Unable to screw himself up to commit a murder, he 
 contented himself with a robbery ; an instance, he may, 
 indeed, say, of singular moderation and self-denial ; 
 especially when we consider of what an assembly he 
 has, with little intermission, been an " Honourable 
 Member " for the last thirty years of his bfe. 
 
 Wm. COBBETT. 
 
 ^orth Hempstead, Long Island, 
 loih Noiember, 1^18.
 
 A 
 
 YEAR'S RESIDENCE, 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 EXPERIMENTS, IN 1818, AS TO CABBAGES. 
 
 Preliminary Remarks. 
 
 165. At the time when I was writing the First Part, 
 I expected to be able to devote more time to my farm- 
 ing, during the summer, than I afterwards found that 
 I could so devote without neglecting matters which I 
 "deem of greater importance. I was, indeed, obliged 
 to leave the greater part of my out-door's business 
 wholly to my men, merely telling them what to do. 
 However, I attended to the things which I thought to 
 be of the most importance. The field-culture of Car- 
 rots, Parsnips and Mangle Wurzel I did not attempt. 
 I contented myself with a crop of Cabbages and of 
 Ruta Baga, and with experiments as to Earth-burning 
 and Transplanting Indian Corn. The summer, and 
 the fall also, have been remarkahltj dry in Long Island, 
 much more dry than is usual. The grass has been 
 very short indeed. A sort of Grass-hopper, or cricket, 
 has eaten up a considerable part of the grass and of 
 all veo^etables, the leaves of which have come since the 
 month of June. I am glad, that this has been the 
 case ; for I now know what a farmer may do in the 
 worst of years ; and, when I consider wjiat the summer 
 has been, I look at my Cabbages and Ruta Baga with 
 isurprise 95 well as with satisfaction. 
 
 ^^m^aSmmSM
 
 [ 112 ] [Part 11. 
 
 Cabbages. 
 
 166. I had some hogs to keep, and, as my Swedish 
 Turnips (Ruta Baga) Mould be gone by July, or be- 
 fore, 1 wished them to be succeeded by cabbages. I 
 made a hot-bed on the 20th of March, which ought to 
 have been made more than a month earher ; but, I 
 had been in Pennsylvania, and did not return home till 
 the 13/A of March. It requires a little time to mix 
 and turn the dung in order to prepare it for a hot-bed ; 
 so that mine was not a very good one ; and then my 
 
 frame was hastily patched up, and its covering con- 
 sisted of some old broken sashes of windows. A very 
 shabby concern ; but, in this bed I sowed cabbages and 
 cauliflowers. The seed came up, and the plants, though 
 standing too thick, grew pretty well. From this bed, they 
 would, if I had had time, have been transplanted into 
 another, at about two and a half or three inches apart. 
 But, such as they were, very much drawn up, I began 
 planting them out as soon as they were about four 
 inches high. 
 
 167. It was the \2th of May before they attained 
 this height, and I then began planting them out in a 
 piece of ground, pretty good, and deeply ploughed by 
 oxen. My cauliflowers, of which there were about 
 three thousand, were k)o late to flower, Avhich they 
 never will do, unless the flower have begun to shew 
 itself before the great heat comes. However, these 
 plants grew very large, and afforded a great quantity 
 of food for pigs. The outside leaves and stems were 
 eaten by sows, store-pigs, a cow, and some oxen ; the 
 hearts, which were very tender and nearly of the Cau- 
 liflower-taste, were boiled in a large cast-iron caldron, 
 and, mixed with a little rye-meal, given to sows and 
 young pigs. 1 should suppose, that these three thou- 
 sand plants weighed twelve hundred pounds, and they 
 stood upon about half an acre of land. I gave these 
 to the animals early in July. 
 
 168. The Cabbages, sown in the bed, consisted partly 
 of Early Yorks, the seed of which had been sent me 
 along with the Cauliflower seed, from England, and
 
 chap. III.] Cabbages. 113 
 
 had reached me at Harrisburgh in Pennsylvania ; and 
 
 Eartly of plants, the seeds of which had been given me 
 y Mr. James Paul, Senior, of Bustleton, as I was 
 on my return home. And this gave me a pretty good 
 opportunity of ascertaining the fact as to the degene- 
 rating of cabbage seed. Mr. Paul, who attended very 
 minutely to all such matters ; who took great delight 
 in his garden ; who was a reading as well as a prac- 
 tical farmer, told me, when he gave me the seed, that 
 it would not produce loaved cabbages so early as my 
 own seed would ; for, that, though he had always se- 
 lected the earliest heads for seed, the seed degenerated, 
 and the cabbages regularly came to perfection later 
 and later. He said, that he never should save cab- 
 bage seed himself; but, that it was such chance-work 
 to buy of seedsmen, that he thought it best to save some 
 at any rate. In this case, all the plants from the En- 
 glish seed produced solid loaves by the 24lh of June, 
 while, from the plants of the Pennsylvania seed, we 
 we had not a single solid loaf till the 28th of July, and, 
 from the cliief part of them, not till mid-August. 
 
 1G9. This is a great matter. Not only have you 
 the food earlier, and so much earlier, from the genuine 
 seed, but your ground is occupied so much less time 
 by the plants. The plants very soon showed, by their 
 appearance, what would be the result; for, on the 
 2nd of June, Miss Sarah Paul, a daughter of IMr. James 
 Paul, saw the plants, and Avhile those from the English 
 seed were even then beginning to loave, those from her 
 father's seed were nothing more than bunches of wide 
 spreading leaves, having no appearance of forming a 
 head. However, they succeetled the plants from the 
 English seed ; and, the whole, besides what were used 
 in the House, Mere given to the animals. As many of 
 die vhite loaves as were wanted for the purpose Mere 
 boiled for soms and small pigs, and the rest were given 
 to lean pigs, and the horn-cjittle : and a fine resource 
 they Mere ; for, so dry was the Mcather, and the devas- 
 tations of the grass-hoppers so great, that Me had scarcely 
 any grass in pny part of the land ; and, if I had not 
 had these cabbages, I must have resorted to Indian 
 Com, or Grain of some sort.
 
 114 ~ Cabbages. [PartU. 
 
 170. But, these spring-cabbage plants were to l^ 
 succeeded by others, to be eaten in September and on\ 
 wards to January. Therefore, on the 27th of May, r\ 
 sowed in the natural ground eleven sorts of cabbages, " 
 some of the seed from England and some got from my 
 friend, Mr. Paul. I have noticed the extreme drought 
 of the season. Nevertheless, I have now about two 
 acres of cabbages of the following description. Half an 
 acre of the Early Salisbury (earliest of all cabbages) 
 and Early 1 orA ; about 3 quarters of an acre of the 
 Dium-head and other late cabbages ; and about the 
 same quantity of Green Savoys. The first class are 
 fully loaved, and bursting : with these I now feed my 
 animals. These will be finished by the time that I cut 
 off my Swedish Turnip Greens, as mentioned in Part I. 
 Paragraph 136. Then, about mid-December, I shall 
 feed Avith the second class, the Drum-heads and other 
 late Cabbages. Then, those which are not used before 
 the hard frosts set in, I shall put vp for use through the 
 month of January. 
 
 171. Aye! Put them up; but how? No scheme 
 that industry or necessity ever sought after, or that ex- 
 perience ever suggested, with regard to the preserving 
 of cabbages, did I leave untried last year; and, in every 
 scheme but one I found some inconvenience. Taking 
 them up and replanting them closely in a sloping man- 
 ner and covering them -with straw ; putting them in pits ; 
 hanging them up in a barn ; turning their heads down- 
 wards and covering them with earth, leaving the roots 
 sticking up in the air : in short every scheme, except 
 one, was attended with great labour, and some of them 
 forbade the hope of being able to preserve any consi- 
 derable quantity ; and this one was as follows : 1 made 
 a sort of land with the plough, and made it pretty level 
 at top. Upon this land I laid some straw. 1 then took 
 the cabbages, turned them upside down, and placed 
 them (first taking off all decayed leaves) about six 
 abreast upon the straAv. Then covered them, not very 
 thickly, with leaves raked up in the woods, flinging now 
 and then a little dirt (boughs of any sort would be better) 
 to prevent the leaves from being carried off by the wind . 
 So that, when the work was done, the thing was a bed
 
 Chap. III.] Cabbages. ^ 1^5 
 
 of leaves with cabbage-roots sticking up through it. I 
 only put on eaough leaves to hide all the green. If the 
 frost came and prevented the taking up of the cabbages, 
 roots and all, they might be cut off close to the ground. 
 The root, I dare say, is of no use in the presenation. 
 In the months of April and Maxj, I took cabbages of all 
 sorts from this land perfectly good and fresh. The 
 quantity, preserved thus, was small. It might amount 
 to 200 cabbages. But, it was quite sufficient for the 
 purpose. Not only did the cabbages keep better in 
 this, than in any other way, but there they were, at all 
 times, ready. The frost had locked vp all those which 
 were covered with earth, and those which lay with heads 
 upwards and their roots in the ground tcere rotting. But, 
 to this land I could have gone at any tinje, and have 
 brought aAvay, if the quantity had been large, a wagon 
 load in ten minutes. If they had been covered with 
 sHoiv (no matter how deep) by uncovering twenty feet 
 in length (a work of little labour) half a ton of cabbages 
 would have been got at. This year, thinking that my 
 Savoys, which are, at once, the best in quality and best 
 to keep, of all winter cabbages, may be of use to send 
 to New York, I have planted them between rows of 
 Broom-Corn. The Broom-Corn is in roivs, eight feet 
 apart. This enabled us to plough deep between the 
 Broom-Corn, which, though in poor land, has been very 
 fine. The heads are cut off ; and now the stalks remain 
 to be used as follows : I sliall make lands up the piece, 
 cut off the stalks and lay them, first a layer longAvays 
 and then a layer crossways, upon the Lnids. Upon 
 these I shall put my Savoys turned upside down ; and, 
 as the stalks will be more than sufficient for this purpose, 
 I shall lay some of them over, instead of dirt or boughs, 
 as mentioned before. Perhaps the leaves of the Broom- 
 Corn, which are lying about in great quantities, may 
 suffice for covering. And, thus, all the materials for the 
 work are upon the spot. 
 
 172. In quitting this matter, I may observe, that, to 
 cover cabbages thus, in gardens as well as fields, would, 
 in many cases, be of great use in England, and of still 
 more use in Scotland. Sometimes, a quick succession 
 of frost, snow and thaw will completely /-of every loaved
 
 116 Cabbages. [Part II. 
 
 cabbage even in the South of England. Indeed no 
 reliance is placed upon cabbages for use, as cattle-food, 
 later than the month of December. The bulk is so large 
 that a protection by houses of any sort cannot be thougnt 
 of Besides, the cabbages, put together in large masses 
 would heat and quickly rot. in gejitlemen's gardens, 
 indeed, cabbages are put into houses, where they are 
 hung up by the heads. But, they icither in this state, 
 or they soon ■putrefy even here. By adopting the mode 
 of presening, which I have described above, all these 
 inconveniences would be avoided. Any quantity might 
 be preserved either in fields or in gardens at a very 
 trifling e.vpense, compared with the bulk of the crop. 
 
 173. As to the application of my Savoys, and part of 
 the Drum-''2ads, too, indeed, if I find cabbages very 
 dear, at New York, in winter, I shall send them ; if not, 
 there they are for my cattle and pigs. The weight of 
 them will not be less, I should think, than ten tons. The 
 plants were put out by two men in one day ; and I shall 
 think it very hard if two men do not put the whole com- 
 pletely up in a tveek. The Savoys are very fine. A 
 little too late planted out ; but still very fine ; and they 
 were planted out under a burning sun and without a 
 drop of rain for weeks afterwards. So far from taking 
 any particular pains about these Savoys, I did not see 
 them planted, and I never saw them for more than ttvo 
 months after they were planted. The ground for them 
 was prepared thus : the ground, in each interval between 
 the Broom-Corn, had been, some little time before, 
 ploughed to the roAvs. This left a deep furrow in the 
 middle of the interval. Into this furrow I put the manure. 
 It was a mixture of good mould and dung from pig- 
 styes. The wagon went up the interval, and the 
 manure was drawn out and tumbled into the furrow. 
 Then the plough M'ent twice on each side of the furrow, 
 and turned the earth over the manure. This made a 
 ridge, and upon this ridge the plants were planted as 
 quickly after the plough as possible. 
 
 174. Now, then, what is the trouble; what is the 
 expense, of all this I The seed was excellent. I do not 
 recollect ever having seen so large a piece of the cab- 
 bage kind >vith so few spurious plants. But, though
 
 Chap. III.] Cabbages. 117 
 
 good cabbage seed is of high price, I should suppose, 
 that the seed did not cost me a quarter of a dollar. 
 Suppose, hoMever, it had cost ten quarters of a dollar ; 
 what would that have been, compared to the Morth of 
 the crop ? For, what is the worth of ten tons of green, 
 or moist food, in the month of March or April ! 
 
 175. The Swedish Turnip is, indeed, still more con^ 
 veniently preserved, and is a richer food ; but, there are 
 some reasons for making part of the year's provision to 
 consist of cabbages. As far as a thing may depend on 
 chance, two chances are better than one. In the summer 
 and fall, cabbages get ripe, and, as I have observed, in 
 Parti. Paragraph 143, the Ruta Baga (which we will call 
 Siccdish Turnip for the future) is not so good 'till it be 
 ripe ; and is a great deal better when kept 'till February, 
 than when used in December. This matter of ripeness 
 is worthy of attention. Let any one eat a piece oi' tchite 
 cabbage ; and then eat a piece of the same sort of cab- 
 bage young and green. The first he will find sweet, the 
 latter bitter. It is the same with Turnips, and with all 
 roots. There are some apples, wholly uneatable 'till 
 kept a while, and then delicious. This is the case with 
 the Swedish Turnip. Hogs will, indeed, always cat it, 
 young or old ; but, it is not nearly so good early, as it is 
 when kept 'till February. However, in default of other 
 things, I would feed with it even in November. 
 
 176. For these reasons I would have my due pro- 
 portion of cabbages, and 1 would always, if possible, 
 have some Green Savoys ; for it is, with cabbages, too, 
 not only quantity which we ought to think of The 
 Drum-head, and some others, are called cattle-cabbage ; 
 and hence, in England, there is an idea, that the more 
 delicate kinds of cabbage are not so good for cattle. 
 But, the fact is, that they are a.s much better for cattle, 
 than the coarse cabbages are, as they are better for us. 
 It would be strange indeed, that reversing the principle 
 of our general conduct, we should give cabbage of the 
 best quality to cattle, and keep that of the worst quality 
 for ourselves. In London, where taxation has kept the 
 streets as clear of bits of meat left on bones as the hogs 
 endeavour to keep the streets of New York, there are 
 peoplQ \yho go about selling " dog's mfat." This con-
 
 118 Cabbages. [Part II. 
 
 sists of boiled garbage. But, it is not pretended, I 
 suppose, that dogs will not eat roast-beef; nor, is it, I 
 suppose, imagined, that they would not prefer the roast- 
 beef, if they had their choice ? Some people pretend, 
 that garbage and carrion are better for dogs than beef 
 and mutton are. That it is to say, it is better for us, 
 that they should live upon things, which we ourselves 
 loath, than that they should share with us. Self-hiterest 
 is, but too frequently, a miserable logician. 
 
 177. However, with regard to cattle, sheep, and pigs, 
 as we intend to eat them, their claim to our kindness is 
 generally more particularly and irapartiall}" listened to 
 than that of the poor dogs ; though that of the latter, 
 founded, as it is, on their sagacity, their fidelity, their 
 real utility, as the guanlians of our folds, our home- 
 steads and our houses, and as the companions, or, 
 rather, the givers, of our healthful sports, is ten thousand 
 times more strong, than that of animals which live to 
 eat, sleep, and grow fat. But, to return to the cabbages, 
 the fact is, that all sorts of animals, which will eat them 
 at all, like the most delicate kinds best ; and, as some 
 of these are also the earliest kinds, they ought to be 
 cultivated for cattle. Some of the larger kinds may be 
 cultivated too; but, they cannot be got ripe till the fall 
 of the ^ear. Nor is the difference in the weight of the 
 crop so great as may be imagined. , On the same land, 
 that will bear a Drum-head of twenty powids, an Early 
 York, or Early Battersea will weigh fovr pounds; and 
 these may he fifteen inches asunder in the row, while 
 the Drum-head requires four feet. Mind, I always 
 suppose the rows to be four feet apart, as stated in the 
 First Part of this work, and for the reasons there stated. 
 Besides the advantages of having some cabbages early, 
 the early ones remain so little a time upon the ground. 
 Transplanted Swedish Turnips, or Buckwheat, or late 
 Cabbages, especially Savoys, may always follow them 
 the same jear upon the same land. My early cabbages, 
 this year, have oeen followed by a second crop of the 
 same, and now (mid-November) they are hard and 
 white and we are giving them to the animals. 
 
 178. There is a convenience attending cabbages, 
 ^'hich attends no other «f the cattle-plants, namely, that
 
 Chap. III.] Cabbages. 11» 
 
 of raising the plants with very little trouble and upon a 
 small bit of giound. A little bed will give plants tor an 
 acre or two. The expense of seed, even oi the dearest 
 kinds, is a mere trifle, not worth any man's notice. 
 
 179. For these reasons I adhere to cabbages as the 
 companion crop of Swedish Turnips. The Mangel 
 Wurzel is long in the ground. In seasons of great 
 drought, it comes up unevenly. The weeds get the start 
 of it. Its tillage must begin before it hardly shows 
 itself. It is of the nature of the Beet, and it requires 
 the care which the Beet requires. The same may be 
 said of Carrots and Parsiiips. The cabbage, imtil it 
 be fit to plant out, occupies luirdly any ground. An 
 hour's work cleans the bed of weeds ; and there the 
 plants are always ready, when the land is made ready, 
 f he Mangel Wurzel root, if quite ripe, is richer than a 
 white loaved cabbage ; but, it is not more easily pre- 
 sened, and will not produce a larger crop. Cattle will 
 eat the leaves, but hogs will not, when they can get the 
 leaves of cabbages. Nevertheless, some of this root 
 may be cultivated. It will fat an ox well ; and it will 
 fat sheep >vell. Hogs will do well on it in winter. I 
 
 would, if I were a settled farmer, have some of it ; but, 
 it is not a thing upon which I would place ray de- 
 pendence. 
 
 180. As to the time of sowing cabbages, the first 
 sowing should be in a hot-bed, so as to have the plants 
 a month old nhen the frost leaves the ground. The 
 second sowing should be u7te« the natural ground has 
 become warm enough to make the tveeds begin to come 
 up freely. But, .seed-beds of cabbages, and, indeed, 
 of every thing, should be in the open: not under a fence, 
 whatever may be the aspect. The plants are sure to be 
 weak, if so^\ni in such situations. They should have 
 the air coming freely to them in every direction. In a 
 hot-bed, the seed should be .sown in rows, three inches 
 apart, and the plants might be thinned out to one in a 
 quarter of an inch. This would give about ten thousand 
 plants in a bed ten feet long, and five icide. They will 
 stand thus to get to a tolerable size without injuring 
 each other, if the bed be well managed as to heat and 
 air. in the open ground, where room is plenty, the
 
 120 Cabbages. [Part II, 
 
 rows may be a foot apart, and the plants two inches 
 apart hi the rows. This will allow o\ hoeing, anfl here 
 the plants aviU grow very finel3\ Mind, a large cab- 
 bage plant, as well as a large turnip plant, is better 
 than a small one. All will grow, if well planted ; but 
 the large plant will grow best, and will, in the end, be 
 the finest cabbage. 
 
 181. We have a way, in England, of greatly im- 
 proving the plants ; but, I am almost afraid to mention 
 it, lest the American reader should be frightened at the 
 bare thought of the trouble. When the plants, in tl:e 
 seed-bed, have got leaves about an inch broad, Ave take 
 them up, and transplant them in fresh ground, at about 
 four inches apart each icay. Here they get stout and 
 straight; and, in about three weeks time, we trans- 
 plant them again into the ground where they are to 
 come to perfection. This is called pricking out. When 
 the plant is removed the second time, it is found to be 
 furnished with new roots, which have shot out of the 
 butts of the long tap, or forked roots, which proceeded 
 from the seed. It, therefore, takes again more readily 
 to the ground, and has some earth adhere to in its pas- 
 sage. One hundred of pricked-out plants are always 
 looked upon as worth three hundred from. the seed-bed. 
 In short, no man, in England, unless he be extremely 
 negligent, ever plants out form the seed-bed. Let any 
 farmer try this method with only a score of plants. He 
 may do it with three minutes' labour. Surely, he may 
 spare three minutes, and I will engage, that, if he treat 
 these plants afterwards as he does the rest, and, if all 
 be treated well, and the crop a fair one, the three mi- 
 nutes will give him fifty pounds weight of any of the 
 larger sorts of cabbages. Plants are thus raised, then 
 taken up and tied neatly in bundles, and then bi-ought 
 out of Dorsetshire and Wiltshire, and sold in Hamp- 
 shirefor three-pence (about six cents) a hundred. So 
 thatit cannot require the heart of a lion to encounter 
 the labour attending the raising of a few thousands ot 
 plants. 
 
 182. However, my plants, this year, have all gone 
 into the field from the seed-bed ; and, in so fine a 
 climate, it may do very well j only great care is ne
 
 Chap. III.] Cabbages, 12l 
 
 cessary to be taken to see that they be not too thick in 
 the seed-bed, 
 
 183. As to the preparation of the land, as to the 
 manuring, as to the distance ot* the rows from each 
 other, as to the act of planling, and as to the after cul- 
 ture, all are tlie same as in the case of transplanted 
 Swedish Turnips ; and, therefore, as to these matters, 
 the reader has seen enough in Part 1. There is one 
 observation to make, as to the depth to wliich tlie plant 
 should be put into the ground. It should be placed so 
 deep, that the stems of tlie outside leaves be just clear 
 of the {/round ; for, if you put the plant deeper, the 
 rain will wash the loose eartli in amongst the stems of 
 the leaves, which will make an open poor cabbage; 
 and, if the plant be placed so low as for the heart to be 
 covered iciih dirt, the plant, thought it w ill live, will 
 come to nothing. Great care must, therefore, be taken 
 as to this matter. If tlie stem of the plant be long, 
 roots will burst out nearly all tlie way up to tlie surface 
 of the earth. 
 
 18-1. The distances at which cabbages ought to stand 
 in the rows must depend on the sorts. The following 
 is nearly about tlie mark. Early Salisbury a ^oo?; 
 Early York fifteen inches; Early Battersea ticenty 
 inches; Sugar Loaf two feet; Savoys two leet and a 
 half; and the Drum-head, Thousand-headed, Large 
 Hollow, Ox-cabbage, aW four feet. 
 
 185. With regard to the time of sowim/ some more 
 ought to be said ; for, we are not here, as in England, 
 confined within four or five degrees of latitude. Here 
 some of us are living in fine, warm weather, while others 
 of us are living amid^st snows. It will be better, there- 
 fore, in giving opinions about times, to speak oi seasons, 
 and not of months and da\s. The country people, in 
 England, go, to this tlay, many of tlicin, at leii-st, by liie 
 tides; and, what is supremely ridiculous, they go, in 
 some cases, by the moveahlc tides. My gardener, at 
 Botley, very reluctantly obeyed me, one year, in sow- 
 ing green Kale when I ordered him to do it, because 
 Whitsuntide was not come, and that, he said, was the 
 proper season. " But," said I, " Robinson, Whitsuntide 
 " comes later tills year than it did last year." " Later y 
 G
 
 122 Cabbages. [Part II. 
 
 " Sir," said he, " how can that be?" " Because," 
 said I, " it depends upon the moon when AVhitsuntide 
 " shall come." " The moon!" said he: " M'hat sewse 
 " can there be in that ■? " " Nay," said I, " I am sure 
 " I cannot tell. That is a matter far beyond my learn- 
 " ing-. Go and ask Mr. Baker, the Parson, he ought 
 " to be able to tell us ; for he has a tenth part of our 
 " garden stuff and fruit." The Quakers here cast all 
 this rubbish away ; and, one wonders how it can pos- 
 sibly be still cherished by any portion of an eidightened 
 people. But, the truth is, that men do not think for 
 themselves about these matters. Each succeeding ge • 
 neration tread in the steps of their fathers, whom they 
 loved, honoured and obeyed. They take all upon trust. 
 Gladly save themselves the trouble of thinking about 
 things of not immediate interest. A desire to avoid the 
 reproach of being irreligious induces them to practise 
 an outward conformity. And thus have priest-craft 
 with all its frauds, extortions, and immoralities, lived 
 and flourished in defiance of reason and of nature. 
 
 186. However, as there are no farmers in America 
 quite foolish enough to be ruled by the tides in sowing 
 and reaping, I hurry back from this digression to say, 
 that I cannot be expected to speak of precise times for 
 doing any Avork, except as relates to the latitude in 
 which I live, and in which my experiments have been 
 made. I have cultivated a garden at Frederickton in 
 the Province of New Brwiswick, which is in latitude 
 about forty-eight; and at Wilmington in Delaware 
 State, which is in latitude about thirty-nine. In both 
 these places I had as fine cabbages, turnips, and garden 
 things of all the hardy sorts, as any man need wish to 
 see. Indian Corn grew and ripened well in fields at 
 Frederickton. And, of course, the sunnner was suffi- 
 cient for the perfecting of all plants for cattle-food. 
 And, how necessary is this food in Northern Climates! 
 More to the Southward than Delaware State I have 
 not been ; but, in those countries the farmers have to 
 pick and choose. They have two Long Island sum- 
 mers and falls, and three English, in every year. 
 
 187. According to these various circumstances men 
 must form their judgment i but, it may be of some use
 
 Chap. III.] Cabbages. ' l23 
 
 o state the length of time, which is required to bring 
 each sort of cabbage to perfection. The following sorts 
 are, it appears to me, all that can, in any case, be ne- 
 cessary. I have put against each nearly the time, that 
 it will require to bring it to perfection, from the time 
 oi planting out in the places where the plants are to 
 stand to come to perfection. The plants are supposed 
 to be of a good size when put out, to have stood suffi- 
 ciently thin in the seed-bed, and to have been kept 
 clear from weeds in that bed. They are also supposed 
 to go into ground well prepared. 
 
 Early Sahsbury . . Six weeks. 
 Early York . . . Eight weeks. 
 Early Battersea . . Ten weeks. 
 Sugar Loaf. . . . Eleven weeks 
 Late Battersea . . Sixteen weeks. 
 Red Kentish . . . Sixteen weeks. 
 Drum-head . . 
 Thousand-headed 
 Large hollow . . VFive months. 
 Ox-cabbage. . 
 Savoy. . . . 
 
 188. It should be obsened, that Savoys, which are 
 so very rich in winter, are not so good, till they have 
 been pinched by frost. I have put red cabbage down 
 as a sort to be cultivated, because they are as good as 
 the white of the same size, and because it may be con- 
 venient, in the farmer's family, to have some of them. 
 The thousand-headed is of prodigious produce. You 
 pull off the heads, of which it bears a great number at 
 first, and others come; and so on for months, if the 
 weather permit ; so that this sort does not take five 
 months to bring its frst heads to perfection. When I 
 say perfection, I mean quite haid ; quite ripe. How- 
 ever, this is a coarse cabbage, and requires great room. 
 The Ox-cabhage is coarser than the Drum-head. The 
 Large hollow is a very fine cabbage ; but it reouires 
 very good land. Some of all the sorts would be nest ; 
 but, 1 hope, I have now given irtformation enough to 
 enable any one to form a judgment correct enough to 
 begin with. Experience will be the best guide tor the
 
 124 Cabbages. ' [Part II. 
 
 future. An otince of each sort of seed would, perhaps, 
 he enough ; and the cost is, when compared with the 
 object, too trifling to be thought of 
 
 189. Notwithstanding all that I have said, or can 
 say, upon the subject of cabbages, I am very well 
 aware, that the extension of the cultivation of them, in 
 America, will be a work of tirne. A proposition to do 
 any thing new, in so common a calling as agriculture, 
 is looked at with suspicion ; and by some, with feelings 
 not of the kindest description; because it seems to 
 imply an imputation of ignorance in those to whom the 
 proposition is made. A little reflection will, howeAer, 
 suppress this feeling in men of sense ; and, those who 
 still entertain it may console themselves with the as- 
 surance, that no one will desire to compel them to have 
 stores of green, or moist, cattle-food in winter. To be 
 ashamed to be taught is one of the greatest of human 
 follies ; but, I must say, that it is a folly less prevalent 
 in America than in any other country with which I am 
 acquainted. 
 
 190. Besides the disposition to reject novelties, this 
 proposition of mine has hooks to contend against. I 
 read, last fall, in an x\merican Edition of the Encyclo- 
 psedia Britannica, " greatly enlarged and impreocd," 
 some observations on the culture of cabbages as cattle- 
 food, which were well calculated to deter a reader of 
 that book from attempting the culture. I do not recol- 
 lect the icords ; but the substance was, that this plant 
 could not be cultivated to advantage by the farmer is 
 Abierica. This was the more provoking to me, as I 
 had, at that moment, so fine a piece of cabbages in 
 Long Island. If the American Editor of this work had 
 given his readers the bare, unimproved, Scotch Edition, 
 the reader would have there seen, that, in England and 
 Scotland, they raise sixty-eight tons of cabbages {tons 
 mind) upon an acre ; and that the whole expense of an 
 acre, exclusive of rent, is one pound fourteen shillings 
 and a penny ; or seven dollars and seventy-five cents. 
 Say that the expense in America is double and the 
 crop one half, or one fourth, if you like. Where are 
 seventeen tons of green food in winter, or even in sum- 
 mer, to be got for sixteen dollars? Nay, where is that
 
 Chap. III.] Cabbages. 125 
 
 quantity, of such a quality, to be got for fiftij dollars ? 
 The Scotch Edition gives an account of Jifty-four tons 
 raised on an acre where the land was Avorth only twelve 
 shillings (less than three dollais) an acre. In fairness 
 then, the American Editor should have giAcn to his 
 agricultural readers what the Scotchman had said upoa 
 the subject. And, if he still thought it right to advise 
 the American farmers not to think of cabbages, he 
 should, I think, have offered them some, at least, of 
 the reasons for his believing, that that which was ob- 
 tained in such abundance in England and Scotland, 
 was not ti> be obtained to an> piofit at all here. What ! 
 Avill not this immense region furnish a climate, for this; 
 purpose, equal even to Scotland, where an oat will 
 hardly ripen ; and where the crop of that miserable 
 grain is sometimes hanested amidst ice and snow! The 
 proposition is, upon the face of it, an absurdity ; and 
 my experience proves it to be lalse. 
 
 191. Tliis book says, if I recollect rightly, that the 
 culture has been tried, and has failed. Tried ! How 
 tried ! That cabbages, and most beautiful cabbages iri/i 
 prow in all parts of America, every farmer knows ; 
 for he has them in his garden, or sees them, every year, 
 in the gardens of others. And, if they A\ill grow in gar- 
 dens, why not infields? Is there common sense in sup- 
 Eosing, that they will not grow in a piece of land, 
 ecause it is not ca//ed a garden? The Encyclopaedia 
 Britanoica gives an account of twelve acres of cabbages, 
 which Mould keep '■'■ forty-Jive oxen and sixty sheep for 
 " three months ; improving them as nuich as the grass 
 " in the best months in the year (in England) May, 
 " June, and July." Of the^e large cabbages, being 
 at four feet apart in the rows, one man will easily plant 
 out an acre in a day. As to the seed-bed, the labour 
 of that is nothing, a.s we have seen. AVhy, then, are 
 men frightened at the labour ? All but the mere act of 
 planting is performed by oxen or horses ; and they 
 never complain of " the labour." The labour of an 
 acre of cabbages is not half so nnich as that of an acre 
 of Indian Corn. The bringing in of tlie crop and ap- 
 plying it are not more expensive than those of the com 
 And Mill any man pretend, that an acre of good cab
 
 126 Cabbages. [Part II 
 
 bages is not worth three times as much as a crop of 
 good corn ? Besides, if early cabbages, they are off 
 and leave the land for transplanted Swedish Turnips, 
 for Late Cabbages, or for Buck-wheat; and, if late 
 cabbages, they come after early ones, after wheat, rye, 
 oats, or barley. This is what takes place even in Eng- 
 land, where the fall is so much shorter, as to gTO^\'ing 
 weather, than it is in Long Island, and, of course, all 
 the way to Georgia. More to the North, in the lati- 
 tude of Boston, for instance, two crops of early cab- 
 bages will come upon the same ground ; or a crop of 
 early cabbages will follow any sort of grain, except 
 Buck-wheat. 
 
 192. In concluding this Chapter I cannot help strongly 
 recommending farmers who may be disposed to try 
 this culture, to try \i fairly. That is to say, to employ 
 true seed, good land, and due care ; for, as " men do 
 " not gather grapes from thorns, nor figs from thistles," so 
 they do not harvest cabbages from stems of rape. Then, 
 as to the land, it must be made good and rich, if it be 
 not in that state already ; for a cabbage will not be fine, 
 where a white turnip will ; but as the quantity of land, 
 wanted for this purpose, is comparatively very small, 
 the land may easily be made rich. The after-culture 
 of cabbages is trifling. No weeds to plague us with 
 handrwork. Two good ploughings, at most, will suf- 
 fice. But ploughing after planting out is necessary ; 
 and, besides, it leaves the ground in so fine a state. 
 The trial may be on a small scale, if the farmer please. 
 Perhaps it were best to be such. But, on whatever 
 scale, let the trial be a, fair trial. 
 
 193, I shall speak again of the use of cabbages, when 
 I come to speak of Hogs and Cows.
 
 [ 127 ] 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 Earth-burning, 1818. 
 
 194. In paragraphs 99, 100, and 101, I spoke of a 
 mode of procurinp^ manure by the biirniun; o{ earth, and 
 I proposed to try it this present year. This J have now 
 done, and I proceed to give an account of the result. 
 
 195. I have tried the efficacy of this maniue on 
 Cabbages, Swedish Turnips, Indian Corn, and Buck- 
 wheat. In the three former cases the Ashes were put 
 into the furrow and the earth was turned over them, 
 in the same way that I have described, in paragraph 
 177, with regard to the mainire for Savoys. I put at 
 the rate of about twenty tons weight to an acre. In 
 the case of the Buck-wheat, the Ashes were spread out 
 of the Avagon upon a little strip olland on the out-side of 
 the piece. They were thiokli/ spread ; and it might be 
 that the proportion exceeded even thirtij tons to the 
 acre. But, upon the part where the ashes were spread, 
 the Buck-wheat was three or four times as good as upon 
 the land adjoining. The land was very poor. It bore 
 Buck-wheat last year, without any manure. It had two 
 good ploughings then, and it had two good ploughings 
 a^ain this year, but had no manure, except the part 
 above-mentioned and one other part at a great distance 
 from it. So that the trial was very fair incleed. 
 
 196. In every instance the ashes produced great 
 effect ; and I am now quite certain that any crop may 
 be raised with the help of this manure ; liiat is to say, 
 any sort of crop ; for, of dung, wood-ashes, and earth- 
 ashes, when all are ready upon the spot, without pur- 
 chase or carting from a distance, the two former are 
 certainly to be employed in preference to the latter, 
 because a smaller quantity of them will produce the 
 same effect, and, of course, the application of them is 
 less expensive. But, in taking to a farm unprovided
 
 128 Earth-burning. [Part II. 
 
 with the two former; or under circumstances which 
 make it profitable to add to the land under cultivation, 
 what can be so convenient, what so cheap, as ashes 
 procured in this way ? 
 
 197. A near neighbour of mine, Mr. Dayrea, 
 sowed a piece of Swedish Turnips, broad-cast, in 
 June, this year. The piece was near a wood, and there 
 M^as a groat quantity of clods of a grassy description. 
 These he burnt into ashes, which ashes he spread over 
 one half of tl)e piece, Avhile he put soapers ashes 
 over the other part of the piece. I saw the turnips in 
 October ; and there was no visible difference in the two 
 parts, M Jicther as to the vigourousness of the plants or 
 the bulk of the turnips. They were sown broad-cast, 
 and stood unevenly upon the ground. They M'ere har- 
 vested a month ago (it is now 26th November), which 
 was a month too early. They would have been a third, 
 at least, more in bulk, and much better in quality, if 
 they had remained in the ground until now. The piece 
 was 70 paces long and 7 paces wide ; and, the reader 
 will find, that, as the piece produced /br/^ i?/s/ieZ«, this 
 was at the rate of fmir hrindred bushels to the acre. 
 
 198. What quantity of earth-ashes were spread on 
 this piece it is impossible to ascertain with precision ; 
 but, I shall suppose the quantity to have been very 
 large indeed in proportion to the surface of the land. 
 Let it be four times the quantity of the soaper's ashes. 
 Still, the one was made upon the spot, at, perhaps, a 
 tenth part of the cost of the other ; and, as such ashes 
 can be made upon a.ny fann, there can be no reason 
 for not trying the tiling, at any rate, and which trying 
 may be eflected upon so small a scale as not to exceed 
 in expense a half of a dollar. I presume, that many 
 farmers will try this method of obtaining manure ; 
 and, therefore, I will describe how the burning is 
 effected. 
 
 199. There are two ways of producing ashes from 
 earth : the one in heaps upon the ground, and the 
 other within Malls of turf, or earth. The first, indeed, 
 is the burning of turj, or peat. But, let us see how 
 it is done. 
 
 200. The surface of the land is taken off to a depth
 
 Chap. rV.] Earth-burning. 120 
 
 of two or three inches, and turned the earth side upper- 
 most to dry. The land, of course, is covered with 
 grass, or heath, or something the roots of which hold 
 it together, and which makes the part taken off take 
 the name of turf. In England, this operation is per- 
 formed with a tnrf-ctitter, and by hand. The turfs are 
 then taken, or a part of them, at least, and placed on 
 their edges, leaning against each other, like the two 
 sides of the roof of a house. In this state they remain, 
 till they are dry enough to burn. Then the burning is 
 begim in this way. A little straw and some dry sticks, 
 or any thing that will make a trifling fire, is lighted. 
 Some little bits of the turf are put to this. When the 
 turf is on fire, more bits are carefully put round against 
 the openings whence the smoke issues. In the course 
 of a day or two the heap grows large. The burning 
 keeps working on the inside, though there never ap- 
 pears any blaze. Thus the field is studded Avith heaps. 
 After the Jirst fire is got to be of considerable bulk, no 
 straw is Manted for other heaps, because a good shovel 
 full oi fire can be carried to light other heaps; and so, 
 until all the heaps are lighted. Then the workman goes 
 from heap to heap, and carries the turf to all, by de- 
 grees, putting some to each heap every day or two, 
 until all the field be burnt. He takes care to keep in . 
 the smoke as much as possible. "When all the turf is 
 put on, the field is left, and, in a week or two, whether 
 it rain or not, the heaps are ashes instead of earth. 
 The ashes are after>vards spread upon the ground; the 
 ground is ploughed and sowed ; and this is regarded as 
 the very best preparation for a crop of turnips. 
 
 201. This is called " /jarm^r and burning.'' It was 
 introduced into England by the Romans, and it is 
 strongly recommended in the First Georgic of Virgil, 
 in, as Mr. Tull shows, very fine poetry, very bad 
 philosophy, and still worse logic. It gives three or 
 four crops upon even poor land ; but, it ruins the land 
 for an age. Hence it is, that tenants, in England, are, 
 in many cases, restrained from paring and burning, 
 especially towards the close of their leases. It is the 
 Roman husbandry, which has always been followed, 
 until ^^^th^n a century, by the French and English. 
 G 5
 
 130 Earth-burning. [Part. II. 
 
 It is implicitly followed in France to this day ; as it is 
 by the great mass of common farmers in England. All 
 the foohsh country sayings about Friday behig an vn~ 
 lucky day to begin any thing fresh upon ; about the 
 noise of Geese foreboding bad weather ; about the signs 
 of the stars ; about the influence of the moon on ani- 
 mals : these, and scores of others, equally ridiculous 
 and equally injurious to true philosophy and religion, 
 came from the Romans, and are inculcated in those 
 books, which pedants call " classical," and which are 
 taught to " young gentlemen " at the universities and in 
 academies. Hence, too, the foolish notions of sailors 
 about Friday, which notions very often retard the ope- 
 rations of commerce. I have known many a farmer, 
 when his wheat was dead ripe, put ofl" the beginning of 
 han-estfrom Thursday to Saturday, in order to avoid Fri- 
 day. The stars saves hundreds of thousands of lambs and 
 pigs from sexual degradation at so early an age as the 
 operation would otherwise be performed upon them. 
 These heathen notions still prevail even in America'as 
 far as relates to this matter. A neighbour of mine in 
 Long Island, who was to operate on some pigs and 
 lambs for me, begged me to put the thing off for a 
 ■while; for that the Almanac told him, that the signs 
 were, just then, as unfavourable as possible. I begged 
 him to proceed, for that I set all stars at defiance. He 
 very kindly complied, and had the pleasure to see, that 
 every pig and lamb did well. He was surprised when 
 I told him, that this mysterious matter was not only a 
 bit of priest'craft, but oi heathen priest-craft, cherished 
 by priests of a more modern date, because it tended to 
 bewilder the senses and to keep the human mind in 
 subjection. " What a thing it is, Mr. Wiggins," said 
 I, " that a cheat practised upon the pagans of Italy, 
 " two or three thousand years ago, should, byalmanac- 
 *' makers, be practised on a sensible farmer in America !" 
 If priests, instead of preaching so much about mysteries, 
 •were to explain to their hearers, the origin of cheats 
 like this, one might be ready to allow, that the wages 
 paid to them were not wholly thrown away. 
 
 202. 1 make no apology for this digression ; for, if 
 it have a tendency to set Uie minds of only a few per-
 
 Chap. IV.] Earth-burning. 131 
 
 sons on the tract of detecting the cheatery of priests, 
 the room which it occupies will have been well be- 
 stowed. 
 
 203. To return to parmg and burning ; the readet 
 will see with what ease it might be done in America, 
 where the sun would do more than half the work. 
 Besides the pai-ing might be done with the plough. 
 A sharp shear, going shallow, could do the thing per- 
 fectly well. Cutting aavss would make the sward into 
 turfs. 
 
 204. So much for paring hnd burning. But, what 
 1 recommend is, not to burn the land Avhich is to be 
 cultivated, but other earth, for tlie purpose of getting 
 ashes to be brought on the land. And this operation, I 
 perform thus : 1 malce a circle, or an oblong square. 
 I cut sods and build a Avail all round, three ieet thick 
 and four feet higli. I then light a (ire in the middle 
 with straw, dry sticks, boughs, or such like matter. 
 I go on making this fire larger and larger till it extends 
 over the vvhole of the bottom of the pit, or kiln. I put 
 on roots of trees or any rubbish wood, till there be a 
 good thickness of strong coals. I then put on the driest 
 of the clods that I have ploughed up round about so as 
 to cover all the fire over. The earth thus put in will 
 burn. You will see the smoke coming out at little 
 places here and there. Put more clods wherever the 
 smoke appears. Keep on thus for a day or two. By 
 this time a great mass of fire will be in the inside. 
 And now you may dig out the clay, or earth, any where 
 round the kiln, and fling it on without ceremony, al- 
 ways taking care to keep in the smoke; for, if you 
 suffer that to continue coming out at any one place, a 
 hole will soon be made ; the main force of the fire will 
 draw to that hole ; a blaze, like tliat of a volcano will 
 come out, and the fire will be extinguished. 
 
 205. A very good way, is, to put your finger into 
 the top of the heap here and there ; and if you find the 
 fire very near, throw on more earth. Not too much at 
 a time; for that weighs too heavily on the fire, and 
 keeps it back ; and, at Jirst, will put it partially out. 
 You keep on thus augmenting the kiln, till you get to 
 tiie top of the walls, and then you may, U" you lik
 
 132 Earth-burning. [Part II. 
 
 "raise the walls, and still go on. No rain will affect the 
 fire when once it is become strong. 
 
 206. The principle is to keep out air, whether at the 
 top or the sides, and this you are sure to do, if you keep 
 iu tlic smoke. I burnt, this last summer, about thirty 
 wagon loads in one round kiln, and never saw the 
 smoke at all after the first four days. I put in my 
 finger to try wlietlier the fire A\-as near the top ; and 
 when I found it approaching, I put on more earth. 
 Never was a kiln more completely bumf. 
 
 207. Now, this may be done on the skirt of any 
 wood, where the matters are all at hand. This mode 
 is far preferable to the above-yroinid burning in heaps. 
 Because, in the first place, there the materials must 
 be turf, and dry turf ; and, in the next place, the 
 smoke escapes there, which is the finest part of burnt 
 matter. ,Soot, we know well, is more powerful than 
 ashes; and soot is composed of the grossest part of 
 the smoke. That which flies out of the chimney is 
 the best part of all. 
 
 200. In case of a want of u-ood wherewitli to begin 
 the fire, the fire may be lighted precisely as in the case 
 of parinff and burnhig. If the kiln be large, t!ie oblong 
 square is the best figure. About ten feet wide, because 
 then a man can fling the eartli easily over every part. 
 The mode they pursue in England, -where there is no 
 wood, is to make a sort of building in the kiln with 
 turfs, and leave air-holes at tlie corners of the walls, till 
 the fire be well begun. Hut this is tedious work ; and, 
 in this country wholly unnecessary. Care must, how- 
 ever, be taken, that the fire be well lighted. The mat- 
 ter put in at first should be such as is of the lightest 
 description; so that a body of earth on fire may be 
 obtained, before it be too heavily loaded. 
 
 209. The burning being completed, having got the 
 quantity you want, let the kiln remain. The fire will 
 continue to Mork, 'till all is ashes. If you want to use 
 the ashes sooner, open the kiln. They Mill be cold 
 enough to remove in a week. 
 
 210. Some persons have peat, or bog earth. This 
 may be burnt like common earth, in kilns, or dry, as in 
 the paring and burning method. Only, thepea^ should
 
 Chap. IV.] Earth-burning. 133 
 
 be cut out in the shape of bricks, as much longer and 
 bigs;er as you find convenient, and set up to dry, in the 
 same way that bricks are set up to dry previous to the 
 burning. This is the only fuel for houses in some parts 
 of England. I myself was nursed and brought up with- 
 out ever seeing any other sort of fire. The ashes used, 
 in those tiines, to be sold i'or fovr pence sterling a bushel, 
 and were frequently carried, after the purchase, to a 
 distance of ten miles, or more: At this time, in my own 
 neighbourhood, in Hampshire, peat is burnt in large 
 quantities for the ashes, which are sold, I believe, as 
 high as sirpence sterling a bushel, and carried to a 
 distance even of twenty miles in some cases. 
 
 211. Nevertheless, it is certain, that these ashes are 
 not equally potent upon every sort of soil. We do not 
 use them mucIi at Botley, tliough upon the spot. They 
 are carried away to the higher and poorer lands, where 
 they are sown by hand upon clover and sain-foin. An 
 excellent fanner, in tills Island, assures me, that he has 
 tried them in various Avays, and never found them to 
 have effect. So say the farmers near Kotley. But, 
 there is no harm in making a trial. It is done with a 
 mere nothing of expense. A yard square in a garden 
 is quite suflicient for the experiment. 
 
 212. With res])ect to earth-ashes, burnt in kilns, 
 keepiny in the smoke, I have proved their great good 
 effect ; but, still, I would recommend tryiny them upon 
 a small scale. However, let it be borne in mind, that 
 the proportioii to the acre ought to be large. Thirty 
 good tons to an acre ; and why may it not be such, 
 seeing that the expense is so trifling \
 
 C 134 ] 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 Transplanting Indian Corn. 
 
 213. I WAS always of opinion, that this would be the 
 best mode, under certain circumstances, of dealing with 
 this crop. The spring, in this part of America, and 
 further to the North, is but short. It is nearly winter 
 'till it is summer. The labours of the year are, at this 
 season, very much crowded. To plant the grains of 
 the Indian Corn over a whole field requires previous 
 ploughing, harrowing, marking, and manuring. The 
 consequence is, that, as there are so many other things 
 to do, something is but too often badly done. 
 
 214. Now, if this work of Corn planting could be 
 postponed to the 2,'jth of June (for this Island) instead 
 of being performed on, or about the 15th of May, how 
 well the ground might be prepared by the 25th of June ! 
 This can be done only by transplanting the plants of 
 the Corn. I was resolved to try this; and so confident 
 was I that it would succeed, that I had made some part 
 of my preparations for six acres. 
 
 215. I sowed the seed at about three inches apart, in 
 beds, on the 20th of May. The plants stood in the beds 
 (about 15 perches of ground) till the Jirst of Juhj. 
 They were now two feet and a half high ; and I was 
 ready to begin pla7iting out. The weather had been 
 dry in the extreme. Not a drop of rain for nearly a 
 month. My land was poor, but clean ; and I ought to 
 have proceeded to do the job at once. My principal 
 man had heard so much in ridicule of the project, that 
 he was constantly begging and praying me not to per- 
 severe. " Every body said it was impossible for the 
 " Corn to live!" However, I began. I ploughed a 
 part of the field into four-feet ridges, and, one evening, 
 set on, thus : I put a good quantity of earth-ashes in the 
 deep furrow between the ridges, then turned back the
 
 Chap.V.] Tkansplantixg Indian Corn. 135 
 
 earth over them, and then planted the Corn on the ridge, 
 at a foot apart. We pulled tip the plants without cere- 
 mony, cut oiTtheir roots to halt' an inch long, cut olT their 
 leaves about eight inches down from their points, and, 
 with a long setting stick, stuck them about seven inches 
 info the ground down amongst the fresh mould and 
 ashes. 
 
 216. This was on the first of July in the evening; 
 and, not willing to be laughed at too much, I thought I 
 would pause two or three days ; for, really, the sun 
 seemed as if it would bum up the very earth. At the 
 close of the second day, ncAvs was brought me, that the 
 Corn was all dead. I vent out and looked at it, and 
 though I saw that it was not dead, I suffered the ever- 
 lasting gloomy peal that my people rang in my ears to 
 extort from me my consent to the pulling up of the rest 
 of the plants and throwinr/ them aiiay ; consent which 
 was acted upon with such joy, alacrity, and zeal, tha* 
 the whole lot were lying under the garden fence in a 
 few minutes. My man intended to give them to the 
 oxen, from the charitable desire, I suppose, of annihi- 
 lating this proof of his master's folly. He would have 
 pulled up the two rows which we had transplanted ; but, 
 I would not consent to that ; tor, I was resolved, that 
 they should have a week's trial. At tlie end of the week 
 I went out and looked at them. I slipped out at a time 
 tchen no one ivas likely to see me! At a hundred yards 
 distance the plants looked like so many little Corn stalks 
 in November ; but, at twenty yards, 1 saw that all teas 
 right, and I began to reproach myself for having suffered 
 my mind to be thwarted in its purpose by opinions op- 
 posed to principles. I saw, that the plants were all 
 alive, and had begun to shoot in the heart. 1 did not 
 stop a minute. I hastened back to the garden to see 
 whether any of the plants, which lay in heaps, were yet 
 alive. 
 
 217. Now, mind, the plants were put out on the first 
 of July ; the 15 succeeding days Mere not only dry, but 
 the very hottest of this gloriously hot summer. The 
 plants that had heen flu7ig away were, indeed, nearly 
 all dead; but, some, which lay at the bottoms of the 
 heaps, were not only alive, but had shot their roots into
 
 136 Traniplanting Indian Corn. [Part II. 
 
 the ground. I resolved to plant out two rows of these, 
 even these. While I was at it Mr. Judge Mitchell 
 called upon me. He laughed at us very heartily. This 
 was on the Qtk of July. I challenged him to take him 
 three to one my two rows against any two rows of his 
 corn of equal length ; and he is an excellent farmer on 
 excellent land. " Then," said I, " if you are afraid to 
 " back your opinion, I do not mind your laugh." 
 
 218. On the 27th of August Mr. Judge Mitchell 
 and his brother the justly celebrated Doctor Mitchell 
 did me the honour to call here. I was gone to the 
 mill ; but they saw the Corn. The next day I had the 
 pleasure to meet Doctor Mitchell, for the first time, at 
 his brother's ; and a very great pleasure it was ; lor a 
 man more full of knowledge and apparently less con- 
 scious of it, I never saw in my life. But, the Com : 
 " What do you thinic of my Corn noAv '?" I asked Mr. 
 Mitchell whether he did not think I should haAe won 
 the wager. " Why, I do not know, indeed," said he, 
 " as to the two first planted rows." 
 
 219. On the lO^A of September, Mr. Judge Law- 
 REXCE, in company with a young gentleman, saw the 
 Corn. He examined the ears. Said that they were 
 well-filled, and the grains large. He made some calcu- 
 lations as to the amount of the crop. I think he agreed 
 with me, that it Avould be at the rate of about forty 
 bushels to the acre. All that now remained was to har- 
 vest the Corn, in a few weeks' time, to shell, to weigh 
 it ; and to obtain a couple of rows of equal length of 
 every neighbour surrounding me ; and then, make the 
 comparison, the triumphant result of which I antici- 
 pated with so much certainty, that my impatience for 
 the harvest exceeded in degree the heat of the weather, 
 though that continued broiling hot. That very night ! 
 the night following the day when Mr. Judge Lawrence 
 saw the Corn, eight or nine steers and heifers leaped, 
 or broke, into my pasture from the road, kindly poked 
 down the fence of the field to take with them four oxen 
 of mv OAvn which had their heads tied down, and in they 
 all went just upon the transplanted Corn, of which they 
 left neither ear nor stem, except about two bushels of 
 ears which they had, in their haste, trampled under
 
 Chap, v.] Transplanting Indian Corn. 137 
 
 foot I "What a mortification ! Half an acre of fine cab- 
 bages nearly destroyed by the biting a hole in the hearts 
 of a great part of them ; turnips torn up and trampled 
 about ; a scene of destruction and waste, which, at 
 another time, would have made me stamp and ra^-e 
 (if not swear) like a mad-man, seemed now nothing at 
 all. The Corn was such a blow, that nothing else was 
 lelt. I was, too, both hand-tied and tongue-tied. I 
 had nothing to wreak my vengeance on. In the case 
 of the Boroughmongers 1 can repay blow Anth bloAV, 
 and, as they have already felt, witli interest and com- 
 pound interest. But, there Avas no human being that I 
 could blame ; and, as to the depredators themselves, 
 though in this instance, their conduct did seem Avorthy 
 of another being, whom priests have chosen to furnish 
 with horns as well as tail, what was I to do against 
 them ? in short, I had, lor once in my life, to submit 
 |ieaccably and quietly, and to content myself with a 
 firm resolution never to plant, or sow, again, without the 
 protection of a fence, Avhich an ox cannot get over and 
 which a pig cannot go under. 
 
 220. This Corn had every disadvantage to contend 
 with : poor land ; no manure but earth-ashes burnt out 
 of that same land ; planted in dry earth ; planted in 
 dry and hot weather ; no rain to enter Uco inches, until 
 the 8lh of August, nine and thirty days after the trans- 
 planting ; and yet, everi/ plant had one good perfect ear, 
 and, besides, a small ear to each plant; and some of the 
 plants had three ears, two perfect and one imperfect. 
 Even the tico last-planted rows, though they were not so 
 good, were not bad. My opinion is, that their produce 
 would have been at the rate of 25 busliels to the acre ; 
 and this is not a bad crop of Corn. 
 
 221. For my part, if i should cidtivate Corn again, I 
 shall transplant it to a certainty. Ten days earlier, 
 perhaps ; but I shall certainly transplant what I grow. 
 I know, that the labour nill be Icfs, and I believe that 
 the crop will be far greater. No dropping the seed ; 
 no hand-hoeing ; no patching after the cut-worm, or 
 brown grub; no suckers; no grass and weeds ; no 
 stifling ; every plant has its proper space ; all is clean ; 
 and one good deep ploughing, or two at most, leaves the
 
 138 Tbaniplanting Indian Corn. [Part. II. 
 
 ground as clean as a garden ; that is to say, as a garden 
 ought to be. The sowing of the seed in beds is one 
 day's work (for ten acres) for one man. Hoeing the 
 young plants, another day. Transplanting, four dollars 
 an acre to the very outside. " But Avhere are the hands 
 to come from to do the transplanting?" One would 
 think, that, to hear this question so otten repeated, the 
 people in America were like the Rhodian Militia, de- 
 scribed in the beautiful poem of Dryden, " mouths 
 toithout hands." Far, however, is this from being the 
 case ; or else, where would the hands come from to do 
 the marking ; the dropping and covering of the Corn ; 
 the /tand-AozH^ of it, sometimes twice ; the patching ., Siiiex 
 the grubs ; the suckering when that work is done, as it 
 always ought to be 1 Put the plague and expenses o 
 all these operations together, and you will, I believe, find 
 them to exceed four, or even six, dollars an acre, if they 
 be all icell done, and the Corn kept perfectly clean. 
 
 222. The transplanting of ten acres of Corn cannot 
 be done all in one day by two or three men ; nor is it 
 at all necessary that it should. It may be done ^vithin 
 the space of twelve or fourteen days. Little boys and 
 girls, very small, will carry the plants, and if the farmer 
 will but try, he will stick in an acre a day himself; for, 
 observe, nothing is so easily done. There is no fear of 
 dearth. The plants, in soft groimd, mightalmost be poked 
 down like so many sticks. I did not try it ; but, 1 am 
 pretty sure, that the roots might be cut all off close, so 
 that the stump were left entire. For, mind, a fibre, of 
 a stout thing, never grows again after removal. New 
 ones must come out of new roots too, or the plant, 
 whether corn or tree, will die. When some people 
 plant trees, they are so careful not to cut off the little 
 hairy fibres ; for these, they think, wll catch hold of the 
 ground immediately, if, when they have planted in 
 the fall, they were to open the ground in June the next 
 year, what would be their surprize to find all the hairy 
 fibres in a mouldy state, and the new small roots shot 
 out of the big roots of the tree, and no new fibres at all 
 yet I for, these come out of the new small roots ! It is 
 the same with every sort of plant, except of a very 
 small size and very quickly moved from earth to earth.
 
 Chap, v.] Transplanting Indian Corn. 139 
 
 223. If any one choose to try this method of cultivat- 
 ing Corn, let him bear in mind, that the plants ought to 
 be strong, and nearly two feet high. The leaves should 
 be shortened by all means ; for, they mnst perish at the 
 tops before the new flow of sap can reach them. I have 
 heard people say, that they have tried transplanting 
 Corn very often, but have never found it to ansMer. 
 But how have they tried it f AVhy, when the grub has 
 destroyed a hill, they have taken from other hills the 
 superabundant plants and filled up the vacancy. In 
 the first place, they have done this when the plants 
 were small: that is not my plan. Then they have put 
 the plants in stale hard grotmd: that is not my plan. 
 Then they have put them into ground where prosperous 
 neighbours had the start of them : that is not my plan. 
 I am not at all surprised, that they have not found 
 their plan to a?jsifer; but, that is no reason that mine 
 should not answer. The best way will be to try three 
 rotvs in any field, and see which method requires the 
 least labour and produces the largest crop. 
 
 224. At any rate, the facts, which I have stated upon 
 this subject are curious in themselves ; they are useful, 
 as they show what we may venture to do in the remov- 
 ing of plants ; and they show most clearly how im- 
 founded are the fears of those, who imagine, that Corn 
 is injured by ploughing between it and breaking its 
 roots. My plants owed their vigour and their fruit to 
 their removal into fresh pastuie ; and, the otlener the 
 land is ploughed between growing crops of any sort 
 (allowing the roots to shoot between the ploughings) 
 the better it is. I remember that Lord R.anel.\gh 
 showed me in 1806, in his garden at Fulham, a peach 
 tree, which he had removed in full bloom, and that must 
 have been in March, and which bore a good crop of 
 fine fruit the same year. If a tree can be thus dealt 
 with, why need we fear to transplant stich tilings as 
 Indian Com ?
 
 [ 140 ] 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 Swedish Tunxips. 
 
 225. Upon this subject I have no great deal to add 
 toMhatvvas said in Part I. Chap. II. There are a 
 few things, however, that I omitted to mention, which I 
 will mention here. 
 
 226. I sow my seed by hand. All machinery is im- 
 perfect for this purpose. The wheel of the drill meets 
 with a sudden check ; it jumps ; the holes are stopped ; 
 a clogging or an improper impelling takes place ; a gap 
 is produced, and it can never be put to rights ; and, 
 after all, the sowing upon four-feet rigdes is very nearly 
 as quickly performed by hand. I make the drills, or 
 channels, to sow the seed in by means of a light roller, 
 Avhich is drawn by a horse, which rolls two ridges at a 
 time, and which has two markers following the roller, 
 making a drill upon the top of each ridge. This saves 
 time ; but, if the hand do the whole, a man will draw 
 the drills, sow the seed, and cover an acre in a day 
 with ease. 
 
 227. The only mischief in this case, is, that of sow- 
 ing too thick; and this arises from the seed being so 
 nearly of the coloiir of the earth. To ^uard against 
 this evil, I this year adopted a method which succeeded 
 perfectly. I xcetted the seed with Avater a little, I then 
 put some ivhiteninfj to it, and by rubbing them well 
 together, the seed became white instead of broion; 
 so that the man when sowing, could see what he was 
 about. 
 
 228. In my directions for transplanting turnips I 
 omitted to mention one very important thing ; the care 
 to be taken 7iot to bttry the heart of the plant. I ob- 
 server! how necessary it was to fix the plant firmly hi 
 the ground; and, as the planter is strictly charged to do 
 this, he is apt to pay little attention to the means by 
 which the object is accomplished. The tiling is done
 
 Chap. VI.] Swedish Turnips. 141 
 
 easily enough, if you cram the butts of the leaves down 
 below the surface. But, this brings the earth, with the 
 first rain at le^st, over the heart of the plant ; and then 
 it will never ^ro JO at all : it will just //re; but will never 
 increase in size one single jot. Care, therefore, must 
 be taken of this. The fixing is to be effected by the 
 stick being applied to the point of the root ; as men- 
 tioned in paragraph 85. Not to fix the plant is a great 
 fault ; but to bury the heart is a nmch greater ; for, if 
 this be done the plant is sure to die. 
 
 229. My own crop of Swedish Turnips this year is 
 far inferior to that of last in every respect. The season 
 has been singularly unfavourable to all green and root 
 crops. The (jrass has been barer than it was, I be- 
 lieve, ever known to be ; and, of course, other vegeta- 
 bles have experienced a similar fate. Yet, I have 
 some very good turnips ; and, even with such a season, 
 they are worth more than three times what a crop of 
 Corn on the same land would have been, i am now 
 (25th Nov.) giving the greens to my cow and hogs. A 
 cow and forty stout hogs eat the greens of about twenty 
 or thirty rods of turnips in a day. My five acres of 
 greens will last about 25 days. I give no corn or grain 
 of any sort to these hogs, and my English hogs are 
 quite fat enough for fresk pork. 1 have about 25 more 
 pigs to join these forty in a month's time : about 40 
 more will join those before April. My cabbages on an 
 acre and a half of ground will carry me well on till 
 February (unless I send my savoys to New Yorl;), and, 
 when the cabbages are done, I have my Swedish Tur- 
 nips for March, April, May and June, witli a great 
 many to sell if 1 choose. I have, besides, a dozen ewes 
 to keep on the same food, with a few wethers and lambs 
 for my house. In June Early Cabbages come in; and 
 then the hogs feed on them. Thus the year is brought 
 round. 
 
 230. But, what pleases me most, as to the Swedish 
 Turnips, is, that several of my neighbours have tried 
 the culture, and have far surpassed me in it this year. 
 Their land is better than mine, and they have had no 
 Borough-villains and Bank-villains to fight against. 
 Since my Turnips were sown, I have written great part
 
 142 Swedish Turnips. [Partll. 
 
 of a Grammar and have sent twenty Registers to Eng- 
 land, besides writing letters amounting to a reasonable 
 volume in bulk ; the whole of which has made an ave- 
 rage of nine par/es of common print a day, Sundays 
 included. And, besides this, I have been twelve days 
 from home, on business, and about^^ue on visits. Now, 
 whatever may have been the quality of the writings ; 
 whether they demanded mindor not, is no matter : they 
 demanded time for the fingers to move in, and yet, I 
 have not written a hundred pages by candle-light. \ 
 man knows not what he can do 'till he tries. But, then, 
 mind, I have always been up with the cocks and hens ; 
 and I have drunk "nothing but milk and water. It is a 
 saying, that " icine inspires icit ;" and that " in wine 
 '■'■ there is truth." These sayings are the apologies of 
 drinkers. Every thing that produces intoxication, 
 though in but the slightest degree, is injurious to the 
 mind ; whether it be such to the body or not, is a matter 
 of far less consequence. My Letter to Mr. Tierney, 
 on the state of the Paper-Money, has, I find, produced 
 a great and general impression in England. The sub- 
 ject was of great importance, and the treating it in- 
 volved much of that sort of reasoning which is the most 
 difficult of execution. That Letter, consisting of thirty- 
 two full pages of print, 1 wrote in one day, and that, 
 too, on the 11th of July, the hottest day in the year. 
 But, I never could have done this, if I had been guz- 
 zling wine, or grog, or beer, or cider all the day. 1 
 hope the reader will excuse this digression ; and, for 
 my own part, I think nothing of the charge of egotism, 
 if, by indulging in. it, I produce a proof of the excel- 
 lent effects of sobriety. It is not drunkenness that I 
 cry out against : that is beastly, and beneath my notice. 
 It is drinking ; for a man may be a great drinker, and 
 yet no drunkard. He may accustom himself to swal- 
 low, 'till his belly is a sort of tub. The Spaniards, 
 who are a very sober people, call such a man " a uine 
 " bag,'' it being the custom in that country to put wine 
 into bags, made of skins or hides. And indeed, wine 
 bag or grog bag or beer bag is the suitable appellation, 
 231. To return to the Swedish Turnips, it was im- 
 possible for me to attend to them in person at all; for,
 
 Chap. VI.] SwBDiSH Turnips. 14$ 
 
 if I once (/ot out, I should have kejyt out. I was very 
 anxious about them ; but much more anxious about my 
 duty to my countrymen, who have remained so firmly 
 attached to me, and in whose feelings and A'iews, as to 
 public matters, I so fully participate. I left my men 
 to do their best, and, considering the season, they did 
 very well. 1 have obsened before, that I never saw 
 my Savoys 'till two months after they were planted out 
 in the field, and I never saw some of my Swedish Tur- 
 nips 'till within these fifteen days. 
 
 232. But, as I said before, some of m}' neighbours 
 have made the experiment with great success. I men- 
 tioned Mr. Da^iea's crop before, at paragraph 197. 
 Mr. Hart, at South Hampstead, has a fine piece, as 
 my son informs me. His account is, that the field 
 looked, in October, as fine as any that he ever saw in 
 England. Mr. Judge Mitchell has a small field 
 that were, when I saw tbem, as fine as any that I ever 
 saw in my life. He had transplanted some in the 
 driest and hottest weather ; and they were exceedingly 
 fine, notwithstanding the singular untowardness of the 
 season. 
 
 233. Mr. James Bvrd of Flushing, has, however, 
 done the thing upon the largest scale. He sowed, in 
 June, about two acres and a half upon ridges thirty 
 inches apart. They were very fine ; and, in Septem- 
 ber, their leaves met across the intervals. On the 
 21st of September I saw them for the second time. 
 The field was one body of beautiful green. The wea- 
 ther still very dry. I advised 3Ir. Byrd to plough be- 
 tween them by all means ; for the roots had met long 
 before across the interval. He observed, that the horse 
 would trample on the leaves. I said, " never mind : 
 " the good done by the plough will be ten times greater 
 " than the injury done by the breaking of leaves." He 
 said, that, great as his lears were, he would follow my 
 advice. I saw the turnips again on the Bth of October, 
 when I found that he had heyun the ploughing ; but, 
 that the horse made such havock among the leaves and 
 his worhinen made such clamorous remonstrances, that, 
 ^fter doing a little piece, Mr. Byrd desisted. These 
 were reasons wholly insufficient to satisfy me i and at
 
 144 SwKuisH Turnips. [Part II. 
 
 the latter, the remonstrances of a workman, I should 
 have ridiculed, without a grain of mercy , only I recol- 
 lected, that my men had remonstrated me (partly Avith 
 sorrowful looks and shakes of the head) out of my de- 
 sign to transplant six acres of Indian Corn. 
 
 234. Mr. Byrd's crop was about 350 bushels to an 
 acre. I was at his house on the 23rd of this month 
 (November) ; and there I heard two things from him 
 ■which I communicate with great pleasure. The fir.st 
 was, that, from the time he began taking up his turnips, 
 he began feeding his cows upon the yreens; and, that 
 this doubled the quantity of their milk. That the greens 
 might last as long as possible, he put them in small 
 heaps, that they might not heat. He took up his turnips, 
 however, nearly a month too early. They grow till 
 the hard frosts come. The greens are not so good till 
 they have had some little frost; and, the bulb should 
 be ripe. I have been now (27th Nov.) about ten days 
 cutting off ray greens. The bulbs I shall lake up in 
 about ten days hence. Those that are not consumed 
 by that time, I shall put in small heaps in the field, and 
 bring them away as they may be wanted. 
 
 235. The other thing stated to me by Mr. Bvrd 
 pleased me very much indeed ; not only on account of 
 its being a complete confirmation of a great principle 
 of TuLL applied to land in this climate, but on account 
 also of the candour of Mr. Bvrd, who, when he had 
 seen the result, said, " 1 was wrong, friend Cobbelt, in 
 not following thy advice." And then he Avent on to tell 
 me, that the turnips in the piece ichich he had ploughed 
 after the 2.1st of September Avere a crop a fourth part 
 greater than those adjoining them, Avhich remained un- 
 ploughed. Thus, then, let no one be afraid of breaking 
 the pretty leaves that look so gay ; and, hoAV ialse, then 
 must be the notion, that to plough Indian Corn in dry 
 weather, or late, is injurious! Why should it not be as 
 beneficial to Corn as to Turnips and Cabbages ? 
 
 23G. Mr. Byrd transplanted Avith his superabundant 
 plants, about two acres and a half. These he had not 
 taken up on the 23rd of November. They Avere not 
 so fine as the others, owing, in part, to the hearts of 
 many having been buried, and to the whole having been
 
 Chap. VI.] Swedish Tcunips. 145 
 
 put too deep into the ground. But, the ridges of both 
 fields were too close together. Four feet is the distance. 
 You cannot plough clean and deep within a smaller 
 space without throwing the earth over the plants. But, 
 as bulk of crop is the object, it is very hard to persuade 
 people, that two rows are not better than one. Mr. Judge 
 Mitchell is a true disciple of the Tulliax System. 
 His rows were four feet asunder ; his ridges high ; all 
 according to rule. If I should be able to see his crop, 
 or him, before this volume goes to press, I will give some 
 account of the result of his labour. 
 
 237. This year has shown me, that America is not 
 wholly exempt from that mortal enemy of turnips, the 
 yft/, which mawled some of mine, and which carried olf 
 
 a whole piece for Mr Jcdc;e Lawuexce at Bay-side. 
 Mr. Bvrd says, that he thinks, that to soak the seed in 
 fish-oil is of use as a protection. It is very easy to try 
 it ; but, the best security is, pretty early sow ing thick, and 
 transplanting. However, this has been a, singular year ; 
 and, even this vear, the ravages of the Jly have been, 
 generally speaking, but trifling. 
 
 238. Another enemy has, too, made his appearance : 
 the caterpillar ; which came about the tenth of October. 
 These eat the leaves ; and, sometimes, they will, as in 
 England, cat all vp, if left alone. In Mr. Bvrd's field, 
 they were proceeding on pretty rapidly, and, therefore, 
 he "took up his turnips earlier than he would have done. 
 
 Wide rows are a great protection against these sinecure 
 gentry of the fields. They attacked me on the outside 
 of a piece joining some buck-wheat, where they had 
 been bred. When the buck-wheat was cut, they sal- 
 lied out upon the turnips, and, hke the spawn of real 
 Boroughmongers, they, after eating all the leaves of 
 the first row, went on to the second, and were thus pro- 
 ceeding to devour the whole. I went with my plough, 
 ploughed a deep furrow /i-o«i the rows of turnips, as 
 far as the caterpillars had gone. Just shook the plants 
 and gave the top of the ridge a bit of a sweep with a 
 little broom. Then buried them alive, by turning the 
 furrows back. Oh ; that the people of England could 
 treat the Borough-villians and their sa^ arms in the same 
 H
 
 146 Swedish Turnips. [Part II. 
 
 Avay ! Then might they hear without envy of the easy 
 and happy lives of American farmers ! 
 
 239. A good sharp frost is the only complete doctor 
 for this complaint ; but, wide rows and ploughing will 
 do much, where the attack is made in line, as in ray 
 case. Sometimes, however, the enemy starts up, here 
 and there, all over the field ; and then you must plough 
 the whole field, or be content with turnips u-ithout 
 greens, and with a diminished crop of turnips into the 
 Jbargain. Mr. Byrd told me, that the caterpillars did 
 not attack the part of the field tvhich he ploughed after 
 the 2lst of September with nearly so much fury as they 
 attacked the rest of the field ! To be sure ; for, the 
 turnip leaves there, having received fresh vigour from 
 the ploughing, were of a taste more acrid; and, yon 
 always see, that insects and reptiles, that feed on leaves 
 and bark, choose the most sickly or feeble plants to 
 begin upon, because the juices in them are sweeter. 
 So that here is another reason, and not a weak one, 
 for deep and late ploughing. 
 
 240. I sliall speak again of Swedish turnips when I 
 come to treat of hogs ; but, I will here add a few re- 
 marks on the subject oi' prcsemhig the roots. In para- 
 graph 106, I described the manner in which I stacked 
 my turnips last yeai-. That did very well. But, I will 
 not, this year, make any hole in the ground, I will 
 pile up about thirty bushels upon the level ground, in 
 a pyramidical form, and then, to keep the earth from 
 running amongst them, put over a little straw, or leaves 
 of trees, and about four or five inches of earth over the 
 whole. For, mind, the object is not to prevent freez- 
 ing. The turnips will freeze as hard as stones. But, 
 so that they do not see the sun or the light, till they are 
 thawed, it is no matter. This is the case even with 
 apples. I preserved white turnips this way last year. 
 Keep the light out, and all will be safe with every root 
 that 1 know any thing of, except that miserable thing, 
 the potatoe, which, consisting of earth, of a small por- 
 tion of flour, and of water unmixed with sugar, will 
 freeze to perdition, if it freeze at all. Mind, it is no 
 matter to the animals^ whether the Swedish turnip, the
 
 Chap. VI.] Swedish Turnips. 14T 
 
 white turnip, or the cabbage, be frozen, or not, at the 
 time when they eat them. Thej are just as good ; and 
 are as greedily eaten. Otherwise, how would our sheep 
 in England fatten on turnips (even white turnips) in 
 the open fields and amidst snows and hard Irosts \ 
 But, a potatoe, let the frost once touch it, and it is 
 wet dirt. 
 
 241. I am of opinion, that if there were no earth put 
 over the turnip heaps, or stacks, it would be better; 
 and, it would be much more convenient. I shall venture 
 it for a part of my crop ; and I would recommend others 
 to try it. The Northern Winter is, therefore, no objec- 
 tion to the raising of any of these crops ; and, indeed, 
 the crops are far more necessary there than to the 
 Southward, because the Northern Winter is so much 
 longer than the Southern. Let the snows (even the 
 Nova Scotia snows) come. There are the crops safe. 
 Ten minutes brings in a wagon load at any time in 
 winter, and the rest remain safe till spring. 
 
 242. I have been asked how I would manage the 
 Swedish turnips, so as to keep them 'till June or July. 
 In April (for Long Island) ; that is to say, when the 
 roots begin to shoot out greens, or, as they will be, 
 yclloics, when hidden from the liyht. Let me stop here 
 a moment, to make a remark wliich this circumstance 
 has suggested. I have said before, that if you keep the 
 bulbs from the light., they will freeze and thaw without 
 the lea.st injury. I was able to give no reason for this ; 
 and who can give a reason for leaves being yellow it" 
 they grow in the dark, and green, if they grow in the 
 light ? It is not the sun (except as the source of light) 
 that makes the green; for any plant that grows int 
 constant shade will be green ; while one that grows in 
 the dark will be yellow. When my son, James, was 
 about three years old, Loki> Cocukan'e, lying against a 
 green bank in the garden with him, had asked him many 
 questions about the sky, and the river, and the sun and 
 the moon, in order to learn what were the notions, as to 
 those objects, in the mind of a child. James grew tired, 
 for as Rousseau, in lus admirable e.vposure of the folly 
 of teaching by question and answer, observes, nobody 
 Ukm to be ([mstiomdi and especially childreu. " Well>" 
 
 H 2
 
 148 Swedish Turnips. [Part II. 
 
 said James, "now yoti tell me something: what is it 
 thai makes the grass f/reen?" His Lordship told him it 
 was the sun. " Why," said James, pulling up some 
 grass, " you see it is ichite down here." " Aye," re- 
 plied my Lord, " but that is because the sun cannot get 
 at it." "How get at it?" said James: "The sun 
 makes it hot all the way down " Lord CocuRANe came 
 in to me, very much delighted : " Here," said he, 
 ** little Jemsiy has started a fine subject of dispute for 
 " all the philosophers." If this page should have the 
 honour to meet the eye of Lord Cochrane, it will re- 
 mind him of one of the many happy hours that we have 
 passed together, and I beg him to regard any mention of 
 the incident as a mark of that love and respect which I 
 bear towards him, and of the ardent desire I constantly 
 Jiave to see him avenged on all vile, cowardly, perjured 
 and infamous persecutors. 
 
 243. When any one has told me, Avhat it is that makes 
 " grass green," I shall be able to tell him what it is that 
 onakes darkness preserve turnips ; and, in the mean- 
 while, I am quite content with a perfect knowledge of 
 the elFects. 
 
 244. So far for the preservation while winter lasts ; 
 but, then, how to manage the roots when spring comes F 
 Take the turnips out of the heaps ; spread them upon 
 the ground round about, or any where else in the sun. 
 Let them get perfectly dry. If they lie a month in sun 
 and rain alternately, it does not signify. They will 
 take no injury. Throw them on a ham's floor ; throw 
 them into a shed; put them any where out of the way ; 
 only do not put them in thick heaps ; for then they will 
 heat, perhaps, and grow a little. I believe thej^ may be 
 kept the whole year perfectly sound and good ; but, at 
 any rate, I kept them thus, last year, 'till July. 
 
 345. Oi' saving seed 1 have some little to say. I saved 
 some, in order to see whether it degenerated; but, 
 ha\ing, before the seed was ripe, had such complete 
 proof of the degeneracy of cabbage seed; having been 
 assured by Mr. Williaji Smith, of Great Neck, that 
 the Swedish turnip seed had degenerated with him to a 
 long whitish root ; and, having, besides, seen the long, 
 pale looking tilings iu jXew York Mwket in Juuej I
 
 Chap VI.] Swedish Tcrnips. 14» 
 
 took no care of what I had growing, being sure of the 
 real sort from England. However, Mr. Byrd's were 
 from his own seed, which he has saved for several years. 
 They differ from mine. They are longer in proportion 
 to their circumference. The leaf is rather more pointed, 
 and the inside of the bulb is not of so deep a yellow. 
 Some of Mr. Bvrd's have a little hole towards the crown, 
 and the flesh is spotted with white where the green is 
 cut off. He ascribes these defects to the season ; and 
 it may be so ; but, I perceive them in none of my tur- 
 nips, which are as clear and as sound, though not so 
 large, as they were last year. 
 
 246. Seed is a great matter. Perhaps the best wa}', 
 for farmers in general, would be always to save some, 
 culling the plants carefully, as mentioned in paragraph 
 32. This might be sown, and also some English seed, 
 the expense being so very trifling compared with the 
 value of the object. At any rate, by saving some seed, 
 a man has something to sow ; and he has it always 
 ready. He might change his seed once in three or 
 four years. But, never forgetting carefully to select the 
 plants, from which the seed is to be raised. 
 
 POSTiCBlPT TO THE CHAPTER ON SWEDISH TURNIPS. 
 
 247. Since writing the above, I have seen Mr. Judge 
 Mitchell, and having requested him to favour me with 
 a written account of his experiment, he has obhgingly 
 complied >vith my request in a letter, which I here 
 insert, together with my answer. 
 
 De.*.r Sir, Ploudome, 7 Dec. 1810. 
 
 248. About the first of June last, I received the First 
 Part of your Year's Residence in the United States, 
 which I was much pleased ^^ith, and particularly the 
 latter part of the book, which contains a treatise on the 
 culture of the Ruta Baga. This mode of culture was 
 new to me, and I thought it almost impossible that a 
 thousand bushels should be raised from one acre of
 
 150 SmcDisn Turnips. [Part II.' 
 
 groundf. However, I felt very anxious to try the expe- 
 ximent in a small way. 
 
 249. Accorflingly, on the 6th day of June, I ploughed 
 up a small piece of ground, joining my salt meadow, 
 containing aixtij-Jive rods, that had not been ploughed 
 for nearl}^ thirty years. I ploughed the ground deep, 
 and spread on it about ten wagon loads of composition 
 manure; that is to say, rich earth and yard manure 
 mixed in a heap, a layer of each alternately. I then 
 harrowed the ground with an iron-toothed harrow, until 
 the surface Avas mellow, and the manure well mixed 
 with the earth. 
 
 250. On the first of July I harrowed the ground over 
 several times, and got the surface in good order ; but, in 
 consequence of such late ploughing, I dared not venture 
 to cross-plough, for fear of tearing up the sods, Avhich 
 were not yet rotten. On die 7th of July I ridged the 
 ground, throAving four furrows together, and leaving the 
 tops of the ridges four feet asunder, and without putting 
 in any manure. I went very shoal with the plough, 
 because deep ploughing -would have turned up the sods. 
 
 251. On the eighth of July I sowed the seed, in single" 
 rows on the tops of the ridges, on all the ridges except 
 about eighteen. On eight of these I sowed the seed on 
 the 19th of July, when the first sowing was up, and very 
 severely attacked by the Jlea ; and I was fearful of losing 
 the whole of the crop by that insect. About the last of 
 July there came a shower, which gave the turnips a, 
 start ; and, on the eighth day of August I transplanted 
 eight of the remaining rows, earli/ in the morning. The 
 •weather was now verif dry, and the turnips sown on the 
 19th of July Avere just coming up. On the 10th of 
 August I transplanted the two other rows at mid-day, 
 and, in consequeiice of such dry Aveather, the tops all 
 died; but, in a feAv days, began to look green: And,, 
 in a feAv Aveeks, those that had been transplanted looked 
 as thrifty as those that had been sown. 
 
 252. On the 1 0th of August I regulated the soAvn roAvs, 
 and left the plants standing from six to twelve inches 
 apart. 
 
 253. A part of the seed I received from you, and a 
 part I had from France a foAv years ago. When I
 
 Chap. VI.] Swedish Turnips, 15l 
 
 gathered the crop, the transplanted turnips were nearly 
 as large as those that stood where they were sown. 
 
 254. The following is the produce : Two hundred 
 and two bushels on sixty-Jive rod of ground ; a crop 
 arising from a mode of cultivation for which, Sir, I feci 
 very much indebted to you. This crop, as you will 
 perceive, wants but two bushels and a fraction oi' five 
 hundred bushels to the acre ; and I verily believe, that, 
 on this mode of cultivation, an acre of land, which will 
 bring a hundred bushels of corre ears, will produce from 
 seven to eight hundred bvshefs of the Ruta Baga Turnip. 
 
 255. Great numbers of my turnips weigh six pounds 
 each. Tlie greens were almost wholly destroyed by a 
 caterpillar, which 1 never before saw; so that 1 Iiad no 
 opportunity of trying the use of tliem as cattle-food ; but, 
 as to the root, cattle and hogs eat it greedily, and <^attle 
 as well as hogs eat up the little bits that remain at- 
 tached to the fibres, Avhen these are cut from the bulbs. 
 
 256. I am now selling these turnips at half a dollar 
 a bushel. 
 
 257. With begging you to accept of my thanks for 
 the useful information, which, in common with many 
 others, I have received from your Treatise on this valu- 
 able plant, 
 
 I remain, 
 
 ^ Dear Sir, 
 
 Your most obedient servant. 
 
 Singleton Mitchell. 
 To Mr. Wm. Cobbett, 
 Hyde Park. 
 
 258. P. 8. I am very anxious to see the Second Part 
 of your Year's Residence. When will it be published 1 
 
 ANSWER. 
 
 Dear Sir, Hyde Park, 9th Dec. 1818. 
 
 259. Your letter has given me very great pleasure. 
 You have really fried the thing : you have given it a
 
 152 Swedish Turnips. [Part II. 
 
 fair trial. Mr. Tull, when people said of his horse- 
 hoeing system, that they had tried it, and found it not 
 to answer, used to reply: " What have they tried? 
 " all lies in the little word IT." 
 
 260. You have really tried it ; and very interesting 
 your account is. It is a complete answer to all those, 
 ■who talk about loss of ground from four-feet ridges ; 
 and especially when we compare your crop with that 
 of Mr. James Byrd, of Flushing; whose ground was 
 prepared at an early season ; who manured richly ; 
 ■who kept his land like a neat garden ; and, in short, 
 ■\vhose field Avas one of the most beautiful objects of 
 which one can form an idea ; but, whose ridges were 
 shoni tico Ject and a half ?i^?cri^ instead o{ four feet, 
 and who had three hundred and fifty bushels to the 
 acre, while you, with all your disadvantages of late 
 ploughing and sods beneath, had at the rate of /ive 
 hundred bushels. 
 
 261. From so excellent a judge as you are, to hear 
 .commendation of my little Treatise, must naturally be 
 very pleasing to me, as it is a proof that I have not 
 erjoyed the protection of America without doing some- 
 thing for it in return. Your example will be followed 
 by thousands ; a new and copious source of human 
 sustenance Mill be opened to a race of free and happy 
 people ; and to have been, though in the smallest de- 
 gree, instrumental in the creating of this source, will 
 always be a subject of great satisfaction, to, 
 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 Your most obedient. 
 
 And most humble servant, 
 Wm. Cobbett. 
 
 262. P. S. 1 shall to-raorrow send the Second Part 
 of wy Year's Residence to the press. I dare say it 
 will be ready in three weeks. 
 
 263. I conclude this chapter by observing, that a 
 boroughmonger hireling, who was actually fed with 
 pap, purchased by money paid to his father by the 
 minister Pitt, for writing and publishing lies against 
 the Prince of Wales and the Dtthe of York, the ac-
 
 Chap. VI.] Swedish TuRNfps. 153 
 
 knowledgment of the facts relating to which transaction, 
 1 saw in the father's own hand-writing ; this hireling, 
 when he heard of my arrival on Long Island, called it 
 my Lemnos, which allusion will, 1 hope, prove not to 
 have been wholly inapt ; for, though my life is pre- 
 cisely the reverse of that of the unhappy Philoctetes, 
 and though 1 do not hold the arrows of Hercules, I 
 do possess arrows; I make them felt too at a great 
 distance, and, I am not certain, that my arrows are 
 not destined to be the only means of destroying the 
 Trojan Boroughmongers. 
 
 264. Having introduced a Judge here by name, it 
 may not be amiss to say, for the information of my 
 English readers, what sort of persons these Long- 
 Island Judges are. They are, some of them, Resident 
 Judges, and others Circuit Judges. They are all 
 gentlemen of knoA\Ti independent fortune, and of known 
 excellent characters and understanding. They receive 
 a mere acknowledgment for their services ; and they 
 are, in all respects, liberal gentlemen. Those with 
 whom I have the honour to be acquainted have fine 
 and most beautiful estates ; and I am very sure, that 
 what each actually expends in acts of hospitality and 
 benevolence surpasses what such a man as Burroughs^ 
 or Richards, or Bailey, or Gihhs, or, indeed, any of 
 the set, expends upon every thing, except taxes. 
 Mr. Judge Lawrence, who came to invite me to his 
 house as soon as he heard of my landing on the Island, 
 keeps a house such as I never either saw or heard of" 
 before. My son James went with a message to him a little 
 while ago, and, as he shot his way along, he was in his 
 shooting dress. He found a whole house full of com- 
 pany, amongst whom were the celebrated Dr. MntiHBLi. 
 and Mr. Clintox, the GoA'ernor of this stale ; but, they 
 made him stay and dine. Here was he, a boy, with 
 his rough, shooting dress on, dining with Judges, 
 Sheriffs, and Generals, and with the Chief Magistrjite 
 of a Commonwealth more extensive, more populous, 
 and forty times as rich as Scotland ; a Chief Magistrate 
 of very great talents, but in whom empty pride forms 
 no ingredient. Big wigs and long robes and supercilious 
 airs, are necessary only when the object is to deceive 
 H 5
 
 154 SwKDisH Turnips. [Part II, 
 
 and overaice the people. I'll engage that to supply 
 Judge Lawrence's house that one week required a 
 greater sacrifice of aiiimal life than merciful Gibbs's 
 kitchen demands in a year : but, then, our hearty and 
 liberal neighbour never deals in human sacrifiees. 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 Potatoes. 
 
 265. I have made no experiments as to this root, and 
 I am now about to offer my opinions as to the mode of 
 cultivating it. But, so much has been said and written 
 against me on account of my scouting the idea of this 
 root as being proper as food for man, I will, out of 
 respect for public opinion, here state my reasons for 
 thinking that the Potatoe is a root, ivorse than useless. 
 
 266. When I published some articles upon this 
 subject, in England, I was attacked by the Irish Avriters 
 with as much fury as the Newfoundlanders attack 
 people who speak against the Pope ; and with a great 
 deal less reason ; for, to attack a system, which teaches 
 people to fill their bellies with fish for the good of their 
 souls, might appear to be dictated by malice against 
 the sellers of the fish ; whereas, my attack upon Potatoes, 
 was no attack upon the sons of St. Patrick, to whom, 
 on the contrary, I wished a better sort of diet to be 
 afforded. Nevertheless, I was told, in the Irish pa- 
 pers, not that I was a fool: that might have been 
 rational: but, when I was, by these zealous Hiber- 
 nians, called a liar, a slanderer, a viper, and Avas 
 reminded of all my political sins, X could not help 
 thinking, that, to use an Irish Peeress's expression 
 with regard lo her Lord, there was a little of the 
 Potatoe sprouting out of their head. 
 
 267. These rude attacks upon ine even were all 
 nameless, however; and, with nameless adversaries
 
 Chap. Vlf.] Potatoes. 155 
 
 do not like to join battle. Of one thing I am very 
 glad ; and that is, that the Irish do not like to live 
 upon what their accomplished countryman Doctor 
 Drexnan, calls " Ireland's lazy root." There is more 
 sound political philosophy in that poem than in all the 
 enormous piles of Plowden and Musgrave. When I 
 called it a lazy root ; -when I satyrized the use of it ; the 
 Irish seemed to think that their national honour was 
 touched. But, I am happy to find, that it is not taste, but 
 necessity, which makes them mess-mates with the pig ; 
 for when they come to this country, they invariably prefer 
 to their ^^ favourite root," not only fowls, geese, ducks 
 and turkeys, but eA'en the flesh of oxen, pigs and 
 sheep ! 
 
 268. In 1815, I wrote an article, which I will here 
 insert, because it contains my opinions upon this sub- 
 ject. And when I have done that, I will add some 
 calculations as to the comparative value of an acre ef 
 wheat and an acre of potatoes. The article was a 
 letter to the Editor of the Agricultural 3Iagazine ; and 
 was in the following Mords : 
 
 To THE Editor of the Agricultural Magazine. 
 
 269. In an article of your Magazine for the month of 
 September last, on the subject of my Letters to Lord 
 Sheffield, an article Avilh which, upon the whole, I have 
 reason to be very proud, you express your dissent with 
 me upon some matters, and particularly relative to 
 potatoes. The passage to which I allude, is in these 
 words : " As to a former diatribe of his on Potatoes, we 
 " regarded it as a pleasant example of argiunent for 
 " argument's sake; as an agreeable jumble of truth and 
 " of mental rambling." 
 
 270. Now, Sir, I do assure j-ou, that I never was 
 more serious in my life, than when I wrote the essay, or, 
 rather, casually made the observations against the cul- 
 tivation and use of this icoise than useless root. If it 
 was argument for argument's sake, no one, that I can 
 recollect, ever did me the honour to show that the argu- 
 ment was fallacious. I think it a subject of great im-
 
 156 Potatoes. [Part II. 
 
 portance ; I regard the praises of this root and the pre" 
 ferenee given to it before corn, and even some other 
 roots, to have arisen from a sort of monkey-like imitation. 
 It has become, of late years, the fashion to extol the 
 virtues of potatoes, as it ha.s been to admire the writings of 
 Milton and Sliakespear. God, uimiffhty and all fore-see- 
 ing^ first permitting his chief angel to be disposed to rebel 
 against him ; his permitting him to enlist whole squa- 
 drons of angels under his banners ; his permitting this 
 host to come and dispute with him the throne of heaven ; 
 his permitting the contest to be long, and, at one time, 
 douDtful ; his permitting the devils to bring cannon into 
 this battle in the clouds ; his permitting one devil or 
 angel, I forget which, to be split down the middle, from 
 crown to crotch, as we split a pig ; his permitting the 
 two halves, intestines and all, to go slap, up together 
 again, and become a perfect body ; his then, causing all 
 the devil host to be tumbled head-long down into a place 
 called Hell, of the local situation of which no man can 
 have an idea ; his, causing gates (iron gates too) to be 
 erected to keep the devil in ; his permitting him to get 
 out, nevertheless, and to come and destroy the peace 
 and happiness of his new creation ; his causing his son 
 to take a pair of compasses out of a draicer, to trace the 
 form of the earth: all this, and, indeed, the whole of 
 Milton's poem is such barbarous trash, so outrageously 
 offensive to reason and to common sense, that one is 
 naturally led to wonder how it can have been tolerated 
 by a people, amongst N\ horn astronomy, navigation, and 
 chemistry are understood. But, it is the fashion to tuni 
 up the eyes, when Paradise Lost is mentioned ; and, if 
 you fail herein you Avant taste ; you want judgment 
 even, if you do not admire this absurd and ridiculous 
 stuff, when, if one of your relations were to write a 
 letter in the same strain, you would send him to a mad- 
 house and take his estate. It is the sacrificing of reason 
 to fashion. And as to the other " Divine Bard," the 
 case is still more provoking. After his ghosts, witches, 
 sorcerers, fairies, and monsters ; after his bombast and 
 puns and smut, which appear to have been not much 
 relished by his comparatively rude contemporaries, had 
 had their full swing ; after hinidreds of thousands of
 
 Chap. VII.] Potatoes. 157 
 
 pounds had been expended upon embellishing his 
 works ; after numerous commentators and engravers 
 and painters and booksellers had got fat upon the trade ; 
 after jubilees had been held in honour of his memory; 
 at a tmie when there were men, otherwise of apparently 
 good sense, who were what was aptly enough termed 
 Shakespear-mad. At this very moment an occurrence 
 took place, which must have put an end, for ever, to 
 this national folly, had it not been kept up by infatuation 
 and obstinacy without parallel. Young Ireland, I 
 think his name was Wilmam, no matter from what 
 motive, though I never could see any harm in his motive, 
 and have always thought him a man most unjustly and 
 brut<illy used. No matter, however, what were the in- 
 ducing circumstances, or the motives, he did write, and 
 bring forth, as being Shakespear's, some plays, a prayer, 
 and a love-letter. The learned men of England, Ire- 
 land and Scotland met to examine these performances. 
 Some itovbted, a few denied : but, the far greater part, 
 amongst whom were Dr. Parb, Dr. Wharton, and 
 Mr. George Chalmers, declared, in the most positive 
 terms, that no man but ShaAcspear could have written 
 those things. There was a division; but this division 
 arose more from a suspicion of some trick, than from 
 any thing to be urged against the merit of the writings. 
 The plays went so far as to be ACTED. Long lists of 
 subscribers appeared to the work. And, in short, it was 
 decided, in the most unenuivocal manner, that this young 
 man of sixteen years of age had written so nearly like 
 Shakespear, that a majority of the learned and critical 
 classes of the nation most firmly believed the writings to 
 be Shakespear's ; and, there cannot be a doubt, that, if 
 Mr. Ireland had been able to keep his secret, they would 
 have passed for Shakespear's 'till the time shall come 
 when the whole heap of trash will, by the natural good 
 sense of the nation, be consigned to everlasting oblivion ; 
 and, indeed, as folly ever doats on a darling, it is very 
 likely, that these last found productions of " our im- 
 mortal bard" would have been regarded as his best. 
 Yet, in spite of all this ; in spite of what one would 
 have thought was sufficient to make blind people see, 
 the fashion has been kept up ; and, what excites some-
 
 158 Potatoes. [Part IL 
 
 thing more than ridicule and contempt, Mr. Ireland, 
 whose writings had been taken for Shakespear's, was, 
 when he made the discovery, treated as an impostor and 
 a cheat, and hunted down with as much rancour as if 
 he had wTitten against the buying and selling of seats 
 in Parliament. The learned men; the sage critics; 
 the Shahespear'mad folks ; were all so ashamed, that 
 they endeavoured to draw the public attention from 
 themselves to the 3'oung man. It was oi'his impositions 
 that they now talked, and not of their omn folhj. When 
 the witty clown, mentioned in Don Quixote, put the 
 nuncio's audience to shame by pulling the real pig out 
 from under his cloak, we do not find that that audience 
 were, like our learned men, so unjust as to pursue him 
 with reproaches and with every act that a vindictive 
 mind can suggest. They perceived how foolish they 
 had been, they hung down their heads in silence, and, 
 I dare say, would not easily be led to admire the 
 mountebank again. 
 
 271. It h fashion. Sir, to Avhich in these most striking 
 instances, sense and reason have yielded ; and it is to 
 fashion that the potatoe owes its general cultivation and 
 use. If you ask me whether fashion can possibly make 
 a nation prefer one sort of diet to another, I ask you 
 what is it that can make a nation admire Shakespear ? 
 What is it that can make them call him a " Divine 
 Bard," nine-tenths of whose works are made up of 
 such trash as no decent man, now-a-days, would not be 
 ashamed, and even afraid, to put his name to ? What 
 can make an audience in London sit and hear, and even 
 applaud, under the name of Shakespear, what they 
 woidd hoot off the stage in a moment, if it came forth 
 imder any other name ? When folly has once given the 
 fashion she is a ver^' persevering dame. An American 
 writer, whose name is George Dorsey, I believe, and 
 who has recently published a pamphlet, called, " The 
 United States axf* E.vglaxd, Sec." being a reply to 
 an attack on the morals and government and learning 
 of the Americans, in the " Quarterly Review," states, 
 as matter of justification, that the People of America 
 sigh ivith delight to see the plays of Shapespear, whom
 
 ^hap. VII.] Potatoes. 15^ 
 
 they claim as their counti-yman ; an honour, if it be 
 disputed, of which I will make any of them a voluntary 
 surrender of my share. Now, Sir, what can induce the 
 American to sit and hear with delight the dialogues of 
 Falstaflf ani P(jins, and Dame Quickly and D(j1I Tear- 
 sheet ? What can restrain them from pelting Parson 
 Hugh, Justice Shallovr, Bardf)lph, and the whole crew 
 off the stage ? What can make them endure a ghost 
 cap-d-pie, a prince, who, for justice sake, pursues his 
 uncle and his mother, and. who slabs an old gentleman 
 in sport, and cries out "dead fur a ducat! dead!" 
 "What can they find to " delight " them in punning 
 clo^vns, in ranting heroes, in sorcerers, ghosts, witches, 
 fairies, monsters, sooth-sayers, dreamers , in incidents 
 out of nature, in scenes most unnecessarily bloody. 
 How they must be delighted at the story of Lear put- 
 ting the question to his daughters of which loved kirn 
 most, and then dividing his kingdom among them, ac' 
 cording to their professions of love ; how delighted to 
 see the fantastical disguise of Edgar, the treading out 
 Gloucester's eyes, and the trick by which it is pre- 
 tended he Avas made to believe, that he had actually 
 fallen from the top of the cliff I How thev must be de- 
 lighted to see the stage filled with green toughs, like a 
 coppice, as in JMacbeth, or streaming like a slaugliter- 
 house, as in Titus Andronicus ! How the young girls in 
 America must be tickled witli delight at the dialogues 
 in Troilus and Cressida, and more especially at the 
 pretty observations of the Xurse, I think it is in Romeo 
 and J'dietl But, it is the same all through the v.ork. 
 I know of one other, and only one other, book, so obscene 
 as this ; and, if I were to judge from the high favour in 
 which these two books seem to stand, I should conclude, 
 that wild and improbable fiction, bad principles of mo- 
 rality and politicks, obscurity in meaning, bombastical 
 language, forced jokes, puns, and s'nut, were fitted to 
 the minds of the people. But I do not thus judge. It 
 hfasliion. These books are in fashion. Every one is 
 ashamed not to be in the fashion. It is the fashion to 
 extol potatoes, and to eat potatoes. Every one joins 
 in e.\tolling potatoes, and all the world like potatoes.
 
 160 PoTATOE*. [Part It 
 
 or pretend to like them, which is the same thing in 
 effect. 
 
 272. In those memorable years of wisdom, 1800 
 and 1801, you can remember, I dare say, the grave 
 discussions in Parliament about potatoes. It was pro- 
 posed by some one to make a law to encourage the 
 groMlh of them ; and, if the Bill did not pass, it was, 
 I believe, owing to the ridicule which Mr. Home 
 Tooke threw upon that whole system of petty legisla- 
 tion. Will it be believed, in another century, that the 
 laAv-givers of a great nation actually passed a law to 
 compel people to eat pollard in their bread, and that, 
 too, not for the purpose of degrading or punishing, but 
 for the purpose of doing the said people good by add- 
 itig to the quantity of bread in a time of scarcity ! Will 
 this be believed 1 In every bushel of wheat there is a 
 certain proportion of four, suited to the appetite and 
 the stomach of man ; and a certain proportion of pol- 
 lard and bran, suited to the appetite and stomach of 
 pigs, cows, and sheep. But the parliament of the 
 years of wisdom wished to cram the whole down the 
 throat of man, together with the flour of other grain. 
 And what was to become of the pigs, com s, and sheep ? 
 Whence were the pork, butter, and mutton to come ? 
 And were not these articles of human food as well as 
 bread ? The truth is, that pollard, bran, and the coarser 
 kinds of grain, when given to cattle, make these cattle 
 fat ; but when eaten by man make him lean and weak. 
 And yet this bill actually became a law ! 
 
 273. That period of wisdom was also the period of 
 the potatoe-mania. Bulk was the only thing sought 
 after ; and, it is a real fact, that Pitt did suggest the 
 making of beer out of straiv. Bulk was all that was 
 looked after. If the scarcity had continued a year 
 longer, I should not have been at all surprised, if it had 
 been proposed to feed the people at rack and manger. 
 But, the Potatoe! Oh! AVhat a blessing to man! Lord 
 Grenville, at a birth-day dinner given to the foreign 
 ambassadors, used not a morsel of bread, but, instead 
 of it, little potatoe cakes, though he had, I dare say, a 
 plenty of lamb, poultry, pig, &c. All of which had
 
 Chap. VII.] Potatoes. 161 
 
 been fatted upon com or meal, in whole or in part. 
 Yes, Sir, potatoes will do very well along with plenty 
 of animal food, which has been fatted on something bet- 
 ter than potatoes. But, when you and I talk of the 
 use of them, we must consider them in a very different 
 light. 
 
 274. The notion is, that potatoes are cheaper than 
 M heat flour. This >vord cheap is not quite, expressive 
 enough, but it Avill do for our present purpose. I shall 
 consider the cost of potatoes, in a family, compared with 
 that of flour. It -will be best to take the simple case of 
 the labouring man. 
 
 275. The price of a bushel of fine flour, at Botley, 
 is, at this time, 10a-. The weight is 56lbs. The price 
 of a bushel of potatoes is 2*. 6d. They are just now 
 diig up, and are at the cheapest. A bushel of potatoes 
 which are measured by a large bushel, weighs about 
 601bs. dirt and all, for they are sold unwashed. [Allow 
 41bs. for dirt, and the weights are equal. Well, then, 
 here is toiling Dick M-ith his four bushels of potatoes, 
 and Jolm with his bushel of flour. But, to be fair, I 
 must allow, that the relative price is not alM'ays so 
 much in fovour of flour. Yet, I think you will agree 
 with me, that upon an average, fife bushels of potatoes 
 do cost as much as one bushel of flour. You know 
 very well, that potatoes in London, sell for Id. and 
 sometimes for 2d. a pound ; that is to say, sometimes 
 for 1/. 7s. 6d. and sometimes for 21. 15s. the five bushels. 
 This is notorious. Every reader knows it. And did 
 you ever hear of a bushel of flour selling for 21. 1.5«. 
 Monstrous to think of! And yet the tradesman's Avife, 
 looking narrowly to every halfpeimy, trudges away to 
 the potatoe shop to get five or six pounds of this wTCtch- 
 ed root for the purpose oi savimj Jlour ! She goes and 
 gives 10(/. for ten pounds of potatoes, when she might 
 buy five pounds of flour with the same money ! Belbre 
 her potatoes come to the table, they are, even in bulk, 
 less than 5lbs. or even 31bs. of flour made into a pud- 
 ding. Try the experiment yourself Sir, and you 
 will soon be able to appreciate the economy of this 
 darae.
 
 162 Potatoes.- [Part II. 
 
 276. But, to return to Dick and John ; the former has 
 got his five bushels of potatoes, and the latter his bushel 
 of flour. I shall by and by, have to observe upon the 
 stock that Dick must lay in, and upon the stowage that 
 he must have ; but, at present, Ave Avill trace these two 
 commodities in their way to the mouth and in their 
 effects upon those Avho eat them. Dick has got five 
 bushels at once, because he could have them a little 
 cheaper. John may have his Peck or Gallon of flour : 
 for that has a fixed and indiscriminating price. It re- 
 quires no trick in dealing, no judgment, as in the case 
 of the roots, which may be icet, or hollow, or hot ; flour 
 may be sent for by any child able to carry the quantity 
 wanted. However, reckoning Dick's trouble and time 
 nothing in getting home his five bushels of potatoes, 
 and supposing him to have got the right sort, a '■'■fine 
 sort," which he can hardlj' fail of, indeed, since the 
 whole nation is now full of " fine sort," let us now see 
 how he goes to work to consume them. He has a piece 
 of bacon upon the rack, but he must haA'e some pota- 
 toes too. On goes the pof, but there it may as well 
 hang, for we shall find it in continual requisition. For 
 this time the meat and roots boil together. But, what 
 is Dick to have for supper ? Bread '? No. He shall 
 not have bread, imless he will have bread for dinner. 
 Put on the Pot again for supper. Up an hour before 
 day light and on with the pot. Fill your luncheon- 
 bag, Dick : nothing is so relishing and so strengthening 
 out in the hanest-field, or ploughing on a bleak hill 
 in winter, as a cold potatoe. But, be sure, Dick, to 
 wrap your bag well up in your clothes, during winter, 
 or, Avhen you come to lunch, you may, to your great 
 surprise, find your food transformed into pebbles. Home 
 goes merry Dick, and on goes the pot again. Thus 
 1095 times in the year Dick's pot must boil. This is, 
 at least, a thousand times oftener than with a bread 
 and meat diet. Once a week baking and once a week 
 boiling, is as much as a farm house used to require. 
 There must be some fuel consumed in winter for warmth. 
 But here- are, at the least, 500 fires to be made for the 
 sake of these potatoes, and, at a penny a fire, the
 
 Cha^. VII.] Potatoes'. " 1 63 
 
 amount is more than would purchase four bushels of- 
 flour, which would make 288 lbs. of bread, which at' 
 7 lbs. of bread a dav, would keep John's family in bread 
 for 41 days out of the 365. This I state as a fact 
 challeTi2,ing contradiction, that, exclusive of the extra 
 labour, occasioned by the cookery of potatoes, the fori 
 required, in a year, for a bread diet, would cost, in 
 any part of the kinf!;dom, more than Mould keep a fa- 
 mily, even in baker's bread for 41 days in the year, at 
 the rate of 71 lbs. of bread a day. 
 
 277. John, on the contrary, lies and sleeps on Sun- 
 day morning 'till about 7 o'clock. He then gets a bit 
 of bread and meat, or cheese, if he has either. The 
 mill gives him his bushel of flour in a few minutes. 
 His wfe has baked during the week. He has a pud- 
 ding on Sunday, and another batch of bread, before 
 the next Sunday. The moment he is up, he is off to 
 his stable, or the field, or the coppice. His breakfast 
 and luncheon are in his bag. In s])ite of frost he finds 
 them safe and sound. They give him heart, and ena- 
 ble him to so through the day. His 56 lbs. of flour, 
 with the aid of 2r/. in yeast, bring him 72 lbs. of bread ; 
 while, after the dirt and peelings and waste are de- 
 ducted, it is very doubtful whether Dick's 300 lbs. of 
 potatoes bring 200 lbs. of even this watery diet to 
 his lips. It is notorious, that in a pound of clean pota- 
 toes there are 11 ounces of water, half an ounce of 
 earthy matter, an ounce of Jibrons and strawey stuff, 
 and I know not what besides. The water can do Dick 
 no good, but he must swallow these 11 ounces of water 
 in every pound of potatoes. Hoav fl\r earth and straxa 
 may tend to fatten or strengthen cunnin": Dick, I do 
 not know ; but, at any rate, it is certain, that, while he' 
 is eating as much of potatoe as is equal in nutriment to 
 lib. of bread, he must swallow about 14oz. of water, 
 earth, straw, &c. for, dowTi they must go altogether, 
 like the Parliament's bread in the years of Avisdom, 
 1800 and 1001. But, suppose every pound of pota- 
 toes to bring into Dick's stomach a 6th part in nutri- 
 tious matter, including in the gross pound all the dirt, 
 eyes, peeling, and other inevitable Avastc. Divide his
 
 164 Potatoes. [Part If. 
 
 gross 300 lbs. by 6, and you will find him with 50 lbs. of 
 nutritious matter for the same sura that John has laid out 
 in 72 lbs. of nutritious matter, besides the price of 
 288 lbs. of bread in a year, which Dick lays out in extra 
 fuel for the eternal boilings of his pot. Is it any wonder 
 that his cheeks are like two bits of loose leather, while 
 he is pot-bellied, and weak as a cat I In order to get 
 half a pound of nutritious matter into him, he must 
 swallow about 50 ounces of water, earth, and straw. 
 Without ruminating faculties how/ hevw^yto bear this 
 cramming 1 
 
 278. But Dick's disadvantages do not stop here. 
 He must lay in his store at the beginning of winter, or 
 he must buy through the nose. And, where is he to 
 find stowage ? He has no caves. He may pie them in 
 the garden, if he has none ; but, he must not open the 
 pie in frosty weather. It is a fact not to be disputed, 
 that a full tenth of the potatoe crop is destroyed, upon 
 an average of years, by the frost. His wife, or stout 
 daughter, cannot go out to Mork to help to earn the 
 means of buying potatoes. She must stay at home to 
 boil the pot, the everlasting pot ! There is no such thing 
 as a cold dinner. No such thing as women sitting down 
 on a hay-cock, or a shock of wheat, to their dinner, 
 ready to jump up at the approach of the shower. Home 
 they must tramp, if it be three miles, to the fire that 
 ceaseth not, and the pot as black as Satan. No wonder, 
 that in the brightest and busiest seasons of the year, 
 you see from every cottage door, staring out at you, as 
 you pass, a smoky-capped, greasy-heeled woman. The 
 
 !)ot, which keeps her at home, also gives her the co- 
 our of the chimney, while long inactivity swells her 
 heels. 
 
 279. Now, Sir, I am quite serious in these my rea- 
 sons against the use of this root, as food for man. As 
 food for other animals, in proportion to its cost, 1 know 
 it to be the worst of all roots that I know any thing of; 
 but that is another question, I have here been speak- 
 ing of it as food for man; and, if it be more expensive 
 than flour to the labourer in the country, who, at any 
 rate, can stow it in pies, what must it be to tradesman's
 
 Chap, VII.] Potatoes. 165 
 
 and artizan's families in towns, who can lay in no store, 
 and who must buy by the ten pound or quarter of a 
 hundred at a time ? When broad-faced Mrs. Wilkins 
 tells Mrs. Tomkins, that, so that she has " a potatoe" 
 for her dinner, she does not care a fartlting for bread, 
 I only laugh, knowing that she, will twist down a half 
 pound of beef with her " potatoe," and has twisted 
 down half a pound of buttered toast in the morning, 
 and means to do the same at tea time without prejudice 
 to her supper and grog. But when Mrs. Tomkins 
 gravely answered, " yes, Ma'am, there is nothing like 
 " a potatoe ; it is such a saving in a family," I really 
 should not be very much out of humour to see the t6te- 
 i-l(^te broken up by the application of a broom-stick. 
 
 280. However, Sir, I am talking to you noAv, and, 
 as I am not aware that there can be any impropriety 
 in it, 1 now call upon you to show, that I am really 
 •wrong in my notions upon this subject ; and this, I 
 think you are, in some sort bound to do, seeing that you 
 have, in a public manner, condemned them. 
 
 281. But, there remains a very important part of 
 the subject yet undiscussed. For, though you should 
 be satisfied, that 300 lbs. of potatoes are not, taking 
 every thing into consideration, more than equal to about 
 SOlbs. of flour, you may be of opinion, that the dispro- 
 portion in the bulk of the crops is, in favour of potatoes, 
 more than safficient to compensate for this. 1 think 
 this is already clearly enough settled by the relative 
 prices of the contending commodities ; for, if the quan- 
 tity of produce 'was on the side of potatoes, their price 
 would be in proportion. 
 
 282. I have heard of enormous crops of potatoes ; as 
 high, I believe, as 10 tons grow upon an acre. I have 
 heard of 14 sacks of wheat upon an acre. 1 never saw 
 above 10 grow upon an acre. The average crop of 
 wheat is about 24 oushels, in this part of England, and 
 the average crop of potatoes about 6 tons. The weight 
 of the wheat 1,440 lbs. and that of the potatoes 13,440 lbs. 
 Now, then, if I am right in what has been said above, 
 this bulh of potatoes barely keeps place with that of 
 the wheat ; for, if a bushel of wheat does not make 56 lbs.
 
 166 Potatoes. [Part II. 
 
 oi Jiour, it weighs 60 lbs. and leaves pollard and bran 
 to make up the deficienc}-. Then, as to the cost : the 
 ground must be equally good. The -seed is equally 
 expensive. But the potatoes must be cultivated during 
 their growth. The expense of digging and cartage and 
 stowage is not less than 2 1, an acre at present prices. 
 The expense of reaping, housing, and threshing is, at 
 present prices, 10s. less. The potatoes leave no straw, 
 the wheat leaves straw, stubble, and gleanings for pigs. 
 The straw is worth, at least 3/. an acre, at present 
 prices. It is, besides, absolutely necessary. It htters, 
 in conjunction M'ith other straw, all sorts of cattle ; it 
 sometimes helps to feed them ; it covers half the build- 
 ings in the kingdom ; and makes no small part of the 
 people's beds. The potatoe is a robber in all manner 
 of ways. It largely takes from the larra-yard, and 
 returns little, or nothing to it ; it robs the land more than 
 any other plant or root, it robs the eaters of their time, 
 their fuel, and their health; and, I agree fully with 
 Monsieur Tissot, that it robs them of their mental 
 powers. 
 
 283. I do not deny, that it is a pleasant enough thing 
 to assist in sending down lusty Mrs. Wilkins's good half- 
 pound of fat roast-beef Two or three ounces of water, 
 earth, and straw, can do her no harm ; but, when I see 
 a poor, little, pale-faced, Ufe-less, pot-bellied boy peep- 
 ing out at a cottage-door, where 1 ought to meet with 
 health and vigour, I cannot help cursing the fashion, 
 Avhich has given such general use to this root, as food for 
 man. However, I must say, that the chief ground of 
 my antipathy to this root is, that it tends to debase the 
 common people, as every thing does, which brings their 
 mode of living to be nearer that of cattle. The man 
 and his pig, in the potatoe system, live pretty much 
 upon the same diet, and eat nearly in the same manner, 
 and out of nearly the same utensil. The same eternally- 
 boiling pot cooks their common mess. Man, being 
 master, sits at the first table ; but, if his fellow-feeder 
 comes after liini, he will not fatten, though he will live. 
 upon the same diet. Mr. Cukwen found potatoes to 
 supply the place of hay^ being first well cooked; but,
 
 Chap. VII..] FoTATOBs. ' ,167 
 
 they (lid not supply the place of oats ; and yet fashion 
 has made people believe, that they are capable of sup- 
 plying the place of bread ! It is notorious, that nothing 
 will fatten on potatoes alone. Carrots, parsnips, cab- 
 bages, will, in time, fatten sheep and oxen, and, some 
 of them, pigs ; but, upon potatoes alone, no animal that 
 1 ever heard of will fatten. And yet, the greater part, 
 and, indeed, all the other roots and plants here men- 
 tioned, will yield, upon ground of the same quality, 
 three or four times as heavy a crop as potatoes, and 
 will, too, for a long while, set the frosts at defiance. 
 
 284. If, Sir, you do me the honour to read this let- 
 ter, I shall have taken up a good deal of your time ; but 
 the subject is one of much importance in rural economy, 
 and therefore, cannot be wholly uninteresting to you. I 
 will not assume the sham modesty to suppose, that my 
 manner of treating it makes me unworthy of an answer ; 
 and, I must confess, that I shall be disappointed unless 
 yeu make a serious attempt to prove to me, that I am 
 in error. 
 
 I am, Sir, 
 Your most obedient, 
 
 And most humble Servant, 
 
 Wm. Cobbett. 
 
 285. Now, observe, I never received any ansicer to 
 this. Much abuse. New torrents of abuse; and, in 
 language still more venomous than the former; for nou) 
 the Milton and Shakespear men, the critical Parsons, 
 took up the pen ; and when you have an angry Priest 
 for adversary, it is not the common viper, but the rattle- 
 snake that you have to guard against. However, as no 
 one put his name to what he wrote, my remarks went 
 on producing their effect; and a very considerable 
 effect they had. 
 
 286. About the same time Mr. Timothy Brown of 
 Peckham Lodge, who is one ot the most understanding 
 and most worthy men I ever had the honour to be ac- 
 quainted Avith, furnished me with the following coinpa' 
 rative estiaiate relative to icheat aud potatoes.
 
 168 
 
 POTATOEB. 
 
 [Chap.VII. 
 
 PRODUCE OF AN ACRE OF WHEAT. 
 
 287. Forty bushels is a good crop ; but from fifty to 
 sixty may be grown. 
 
 Pounds of Wheat. 
 40 bushels 60 pounds a bushel . . . 2,400 
 45^ pounds of flour to each 
 
 bushel of wheat . . . 1820 
 13 pounds of otfal to each 
 
 bushel ..:... 520 
 Waste 60 
 
 2,400 
 
 The worth of offal is about 
 that of one bushel of 
 flour ; and the worth of 
 straw, 2 tons, each worth 
 2/. is equal to six bushels 
 offlour 3181 
 
 Founds •/ Flour. 
 . 2,139 
 
 So that the total yield, in Jlour, is . 
 
 Pounds of Bread. 
 Which, will make of bread, at the 
 rate of 9 pounds of bread from 
 7 pounds of flour 2,739| 
 
 PRODUCE OF AN ACRE OF POTATOEB. 
 
 288. Seven tons, or 350 bushels, is a good crop; 
 but ten tons, or 500 bushels may be grown. 
 
 Pounds of Potatoes. 
 Ten tons, or 22,400 
 
 Pounds of Flour. 
 Ten pounds of Potatoes contain one 
 
 pound of flour 2^40 
 
 Pounds of Bread. 
 Which would, if it ivere possible to 
 extract the flour and get it in a dry 
 state, make of bread ...... 2,880
 
 Chap. Vlf.] Potatoes. 169 
 
 289. Thus, then, the nutritious contents of the Potatoes 
 surpass tliat of the wheat but by a tew pounds ; but to 
 get at those contents, unaccompanied with nine times 
 their weirjkt in earth, straw, and water, is impossible. 
 Nine pounds of earth, straw and water must, then, be 
 swallowed, in order to get at the one pouud of flour ! 
 
 290. I beg to be understood as saying nothing against 
 the cultivation of potatoes in any place, or near any 
 place where there are people willing to consume them 
 at half a dollar a Inishel, when wheat is two dollars a 
 bushel. If any one will buy dirt to eat, and if one can 
 get dirt to him with more profit than one can get wheat 
 to him, let us supply him with dirt by all means. It is 
 his taste to eat dirt ; and, if his taste have nothing im- 
 moral in it, let him, in the name of all that is ridiculous, 
 follow his taste. 1 know a prime Minister, who picks 
 his nose and regales himself with the contents. I 
 solemnly declare this to be true. I have witnessed the 
 Morse than beastly act scores of times ; and yet, I do 
 not know, that he is much more of a beast than the 
 greater part of his associates. Yet, if this were all ; if 
 he were chargeable with nothing but this ; if he would 
 confine his swallow to this, I do not know that the 
 nation would have any right to interfere between his 
 nostrils and his gullet. 
 
 291. Nor do 1 say, that it h filthy to eat potatoes. I 
 do not ridicule the using of them as sauce. What I 
 laugh at is, the idea of the use of them being a saving : 
 of their ffoing further than bread ; of the cultivation of 
 them in lieu oi" wheat adding to the human sustenance 
 of a country. This is what I laugh at ; and laugh I 
 must as long as 1 have the above estimate before me, 
 
 292. As food for cattle, sheep or hogs, this is the 
 worst of all the green and root crops ; but, of this I 
 have said enough before ; and, therefore, I now dismiss 
 the Potatoe with the hope, that I shall never again 
 have to write the word, or to see the thing.
 
 [ 170 ] 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 cows, SHEKP, HOGS, AND POULTRY. 
 
 293. Cows. — With respect to cows, need we any 
 other facts than those of Mr. Byrd to prove how advan- 
 tageous the Swedish turnip culture must be to those who 
 keep cows in order to make butter and cheese 1 The 
 greeiis come to supply the place of grass, and to add a 
 month to the feeding on green food. They come just at 
 the time when cows, in this country, are let go dry. It 
 is too hard work to squeeze butter out of straw and corn 
 stalks ; and, if you could get it out, it would not, pound 
 for pound, be nearly so good as lard, though it would be 
 full as white. To give cows^jte hay no man thinks of; 
 and, therefore, dry they must be from November until 
 March, though a good piece of cabbages added to the 
 turnip greens would keep them on in milk to their calv- 
 insr time ; or, 'till within a month of it at any rate. The 
 buibs of Swedish turnips are too valuable to give to 
 cows ; but the cabbages, which are so easily raised, 
 may be made subservient to their use. 
 
 294. Sheep. — In the First Part 1 have said how I 
 fed my sheep upon Swedish turnips. I have now only 
 to add, that, in the case of early lambs for market, cab- 
 bages, and especially savoys, in February and March, 
 would be excellent for the ewes. Sheep love green. In 
 a turnip field, they never touch the bulb, till every bit of 
 green is eaten. I would, therefore, for this purpose, 
 have some cabbages, and, if possible, of the savoy kind. 
 
 295. Hogs. — This is the main object, when we talk 
 of raising green and root crops, no matter how near to 
 or how far from the spot where the produce of the farm 
 is to be conjumed. For, pound for pound, the hog is 
 the most valuable animal ; and, whether fresh or salted, 
 is the most easily conveyed. Swedish turnips or cab- 
 bages or Mangel Wurzel will fatteii an ox; but, that 
 which would, in four or five months, fatten the ox, would 
 keep fifteen August Pigi from the grass going to the
 
 Chap. VIII.] Cows, Sheep, Hogs, &c. 171 
 
 grass coming, on Long Island. Look at their jvorth in 
 June, and compare it with the few dollars that you have 
 got by fatting the ox ; and look also at the mannre in the 
 two cases. A farmer, on this Island fatted two oxen last 
 winter upon corn. He told me, after he had sold them, 
 that, if he had given the oxen away, and sold the corn, 
 he should have had more money in his pocket. Biit, if 
 he had kept, through the winter, four or five summer pigs 
 upon this corn, would they have eaten all his corn to no 
 purpose ■? I am aware, that pigs get something at an 
 ox-stable door ; but what a process is this ! 
 
 296. My hogs are now living ichoUy upon Swedish 
 turnip greens, and, though I have taken no particular 
 pains about the matter, they look very well, and, for 
 store hogs and sows, are as iat as I wish them to be. 
 My English hogs are sleek, and fit for fresh pork ; and 
 all the hogs not only eat the greens but do well upon 
 them. But, observe, I give them plenty three times a 
 day. In the forenoon we get a good wagon load, and 
 that is for three meals. This is a main thing, this 
 plenty ; and, the farmer must see to it with his OWN 
 EYES ; for, workmen are all starvers, except of them- 
 selves. I never had a man in my life, who would not 
 starve a hog, if I would let him ; that is to say, if the 
 food was to be got by some labour. You must, there- 
 fore, see to this ; or, you do not try the thing at all. 
 
 297. Turnip greens are, however, by no means equal 
 to cabbages, or even to cabbage leaves. The cabbage, 
 and even the leaf, is the friiit of the plant ; which is not 
 the case with the Turnip green. Therefore the latter 
 must, especially when they follow summer cabbages, be 
 given in greater proportionate quantities. 
 
 298. As to the bitlb of the Swedish turnip, I have said 
 enough, in the First Part, as food for hogs ; and I should 
 not have mentioned the matter again, had I not been 
 visited by two gentlemen, who came on purpose (from ft 
 great distance) to see, whether hogs realty would eat 
 Swedish turnips ! Let not the English farmers laugh jat 
 this i let them not imagine, that the American farmers 
 are a set of simpletons on this account: for, only about 
 thirty years ago, the English farmers would, not, indeed, 
 hwe gone a great distance to ascertain the fact, blrt 
 
 I 2
 
 172 Cows, Sheep, Hoq.s, &c. [Part II. 
 
 •would have said at once, that the thing wasfalse. It is not 
 more than about four hundred years since the Londoners 
 were whelly supphed ^vith cabbages, spinage, turnips, 
 carrots, and all sorts of garden atuf^ from Flanders. 
 And no^v% I suppose, that one single parish in Kent 
 grows more garden stuff than all Flanders. The 
 first settlers came to America long and long belbre 
 even the tchite turnip made its appearance in the /ields 
 in England. The successors of the first settlers trod in 
 the foot-steps of their fathers. The communication with 
 England did not bring out good Englishfarmers. Books, 
 made little impression unaccompanied with actual expe- 
 riments on the spot. It was reserved for the Borough- 
 mongers, armed with gags, halters, and axes, to drive 
 from England experience and public spirit sufficient to 
 introduce the culture of the green and root crops to the 
 fields of America. 
 
 299. The first gentleman, who came to see whether 
 hogs would eat Swedish turnips, saw some turnips tossed 
 down on the grass to the hogs, which were eating sweet 
 little loaved cabbages. However, they eat the turnips 
 too before they left off. The second, who came on the 
 afternoon of the same day, saw the hogs eat some bulbs 
 chopped up. The hogs were pretty hungry, and the 
 quantity of turnips small, and there was such a shoving 
 and pushing about amongst the hogs to snap up the bits, 
 that the gentleman observed, that they " liked them as 
 " %vell as corn." 
 
 300. In paragraph 134 I related a fact of a neigh- 
 bour of mine in Hampshire having given his Swedish 
 turnips, after they had home seed, to some lean pigs, 
 and had, with that food, made them fit for fresh porky 
 and sold them as such. A gentleman from South Caro- 
 lina was here in July last, and I brought some of mine 
 which had then borne seed. They were perfectly sound. 
 The hogs ate them as well as if they had not borne seed. 
 We boiled some in the kitchen for dinner; and they 
 appeared as good as those eaten in the winter. This 
 shews clearly how well this root keeps. 
 
 301. NoAv, these facts being, I hope, undoubted, is it 
 not surprising, that, in many parts of this fine country, 
 it is the rule to keep only 07ie pig for every cow ! The
 
 Chap. VIII.] Cows, Sheep, Hogs, &c. 173 
 
 cow seems as necessary to the pig as the pig's mouth is 
 necessary to his carcass. There are, for instance, six 
 cows; therefore, when they begin to give milk in the 
 spring, six pigs are set on upon the milk, which is given 
 them with a suitable proportion of pot liquor (a jneat pot) 
 and of rve, or Indian, meal, making a diet far superior 
 to that of the famihes of labouring men in England, 
 Thus the pigs go on 'till the time when the cows (for 
 •want of moi^t food) become dry. Then the pigs are 
 shut up, and have the new sweet Indian corn heaped 
 into their stye 'till they are quite fot, being half fat, 
 mind, all the summer long, as they run barking and 
 capering about. Sometimes they turn sulky, however, 
 and will not eat enough of the corn ; and well they may, 
 seeing that they are deprived of their milk. Take a 
 child from its pap all at once, and you will find, that it 
 will not, for a long while, relish its new diet. What a 
 system ! but if it must be persevered in, there might, it 
 appears to me, be a great improvement made even in it ; 
 for, the labour of milking and of the subsequent opera- 
 tions, all bein.5 performed by icomen, is of great incon- 
 ▼enience. Better let each pig suck its adopted mother 
 at once, which would save a monstrous deal of labour, 
 and prevent all possibility of waste. There would be no 
 slopping about; and, which is a prime consideration in 
 a dairy system, there would be clean milking ; for, it 
 has been proved by Doctor Anderson, that the last 
 drop is fourteen times as good as the first drop ; and, I 
 ■will engage, that the grunting child of the loAving mother 
 would have that last drop twenty times a day, or would 
 pull the udder from her body. I can imagine but one 
 difficulty that can present itself to the mind of any one 
 disposed to adopt this improvement ; and that is, the 
 teaching of the pig to suck the cow. This will appear 
 a difficulty to those only who think unjustly of the un- 
 derstandings of pigs : and, for their encouragement, 1 
 beg leave to refer them to Daniel's Rural Sports, 
 •where they will find, that, in Hampshire, Sir John 
 Mildmay s gamekeeper, Toomer, taught a sow to point 
 at partridges and other game; to quarter her ground 
 like a pointer, to back the pointers, when she hunted 
 with them, and to be, in all_ respects, the most docile
 
 174 Cows, Sheep, Hoes, &c. [Part II. 
 
 pointer of the finest nose. This fact is true beyond all 
 doubt. It is known to many men now alive. Judge, 
 then, how easily a pig might be taught to milk a cow, 
 and what a " saving of labour " this would produce ! 
 
 302. it is strange what comfort men derive even from 
 the deceptions which they practise upon themselves. 
 The milk and fat pot^liquor and meal are, when put 
 together, called, in Long Island, sivill. The icordcome^ 
 from the farm-houses in England, but it has a new 
 meaning attached to it. There it means the mere 
 v;ash ; the mere drink given to store hogs. But, here 
 it means rich fatting food. " There, friend Cobbett," 
 said a gentleman to me, as we looked at his pigs in 
 September last, " do thy English pigs look better than 
 these V " No," said I, " but what do these live on V 
 He said he had given them all summer, " nothing but 
 ''swill." "Aye," said I, " but what is swill?" It 
 •was, for six pigs, nothing at all, except the milk of six 
 very fine cows, with a bin of shorts and meal always^ 
 in requisition, and with the daily supply of hquor from 
 a pot and a spit, that boils and turns without counting 
 the cost. 
 
 303. This is very well for those who do not care a 
 straw, whether their pork cost them seven cents a pound 
 or half a dollar a pound ; and, I like to see even the 
 waste ; because it is a proof of the easy and happy life 
 of the farmer. But, when we are talking of profitable 
 agriculture, we must examine this swill tub, and see 
 what it contains. To keep pigs to a profit, you must 
 carry them on to their fatting time at little expense. 
 Milk comes from all the grass "you grow and almost the 
 whole of the dry fodder. Five or six cows will sweep 
 a pretty good farm as clean as the turnpike road. Pigs, 
 till welliveaned must be kept upon good food. My pigs 
 will always be fit to go out of the weaning stye at three 
 months old. The common pigs require four months. 
 Then out they go never to be fed again, except on grass, 
 greens, or roots, till they arrive at the age to be fattened. 
 If they will not keep themselves in growing order upon 
 this food, it is better to shoot them at once. But, I never 
 yet saw a hog that would not. The difference between 
 the good sort and the bad sort is, that the former will
 
 Chap. VIII] Cows, SliBEP, Hogs, &c. ITS 
 
 always be fat enough ior fresh pork, and the latter will 
 not; and that, in the tatting, the fonner will not require 
 (weight for weight of animal) more than half the food 
 that the latter will to make them equally fat. 
 
 304. Out of the milk and meal system another mon- 
 sti'ous evil arises. It is seldom that the hogs come to 
 a proper age before they are killed. A hog has not 
 got his growth till he is full two years old. But, who 
 will, or <;an, have the patience to see a hog ealim/ 
 Long- Island sicill for two years ! When a hog is only 
 15 or 10 months old, he will lay on two pounds of fat 
 for every one pound that will, out of the same quantity 
 of food, be laid on by an eight or ten mouths' pig. Is 
 it not thus with every animal? A stout boy will be like 
 a herring upon the very food that would make his fa- 
 ther fat, or kill him. However, this fact is too noto- 
 rious to be insisted on, 
 
 305. Then, the young meat is not so nutritious as the 
 old. Steer-beef is not nearly so good as ox-beef 
 Young wether mutton bears the same proportion of 
 inferiority to old wether mutton. And, what reason is 
 there, that the principle should not hold good as to 
 hog-meat ? In Westphalia, where the fine hams are 
 made, the hogs are never killed under three years old. 
 In France, where I saw the fattest pork I ever saM', 
 they keep their fatting hogs to the same age. In France 
 and Germany, the people do not eat the hog, as hog : 
 they use the hog to put fat into other sorts of meat. 
 They make holes in beef, mutton, veal, turkeys and 
 fowls, and, with a tin tube, draw in bits of fat hog, 
 which they call lard, and, as it is all fat, hence comes 
 it that Ave call the inside fat of a hog, lard. Their beef 
 and mutton and veal would be very poor stuff without 
 the aid of the hog ; but, with that aid, they make them 
 all exceedingly good. Hence it is, that they are in- 
 duced to keep their hogs till they have qtiite done grow- 
 ing ; and, though their sort of hogs is the very tcorst 
 I ever saw, tlieir hog meat Avas the very fattest. The 
 common Aveight in Normandy and Brittany h from six 
 to eight hundred pounds. But, the poor felloAvs there 
 do not slaughter away as the farmers do here, ten or a 
 dozen hogs at a time, so that the sight makes one won-
 
 176 Cows, Sheep, HogSj &c. [Part II. 
 
 der whence are to come the mouths to eat the meat. 
 In France du lard is a thing to smell to, not to eat. 
 I like the eating far better than the smelling system ; 
 but ■when we are talking about farming for gain, we 
 ought to inquire how any given weight of meat can be 
 obtained at the cheapest rote. A hog in his third year, 
 would, on the American plan, suck half a dairy of cows 
 perhaps; but, then, mind, he would, upon a t/iird part 
 of the fatting food, weigli down four Long Island 
 *' shuts," the average weight of which is about one hun- 
 dred and fifty pounds. 
 
 306. A iiog, upon rich food, will be much bigger at 
 the end of a year, than a hog upon good growing diet ; 
 but, he will not be bigger at the end of t%t:o years, and 
 especially at the end of three years. His size is not 
 to he forced on, any more than that of a child, beyond 
 a certain point. 
 
 307. For these reasons, if I were settled as a farmer, 
 I Mould let my hogs have time to come to their size. 
 Some sorts come to it at an earlier period, and this is 
 amongst the good qualities of my English hogs ; but, 
 to do the thing well, even they ought to have txco years 
 to groAv in. 
 
 308. The reader will think, that I shall never cease 
 talking about hogs ; but, I have now done, only I will 
 add, that, in keeping hogs in a growing state, we must 
 never forget their lodging ! A few boards, flung care- 
 lessly over a couple of rails, and no litter berealh, is 
 not the sort of bed for a hog. A place of suitable size, 
 large rather than small, well sheltered on every side, 
 covered with a roof that lets in no wet or snow. No 
 opening, except a door way big enough for a hog to go 
 in ; ami the floor constantly Avell bedded with leaves of 
 trees, dry, or, which is the best thing, and what a hog 
 deserves, plenty of clean straw. When I make up my 
 hog's lodging place for winter, I look well at it, and 
 consider, whether, upon a pinch, I could, for once and 
 away, make shift to lodge in it myself. If I shiver at 
 the ihovght, the place is not good enough for ray hogs. 
 It is not in the nature of a hog to sleep in the cold. 
 Look at them. You will see them, if they ha^e the 
 means, cover themselves over for the night. This is
 
 Chap. VIII,] Cows, Sheep, Hogs, &c. 177 
 
 what is done by neither horse, cow, sheep, dog nor cat. 
 And this should admonish us to provide hogs with warm 
 and comfortable lodging. Their sagacity in providing 
 against cold in the night, when they have it in their 
 
 ?ower to make such provision, is quite wonderful, 
 on see them looking about for the warmest spot : then 
 they go to work, raking up the litter so as to break the 
 wind off; and when they have done their best, they lie 
 down, I had a sow that had some pigs running about 
 with her in April last. There was a place open to 
 her on each side of the barn. One faced the east and 
 the other the west; and, I observed, that she sometimes 
 took to one side and sometimes to the other. One 
 evening her pigs had gone to bed on the east side. She 
 was out eating till it began to grow dusk. I saw her 
 go into her pigs, and M'as surprised to see her come 
 out again ; and therefore, looked a little to see >vhat 
 she was after. There was a high heap of dung in the 
 front of the barn to the south. She walked up to the 
 top of it, raised her nqse, turned it very slowly, two or 
 three times, from the north-east to the north-west, and 
 back again, and at last, it settled at about south-east, 
 for a little bit. She then came back, marched aAvay 
 very hastily to her pigs, roused them up in a great bus- 
 tle, and away she trampled with them at her heels to 
 the place on the west side of the barn. There was so 
 little wind, that I could not tell which way it blew, till 
 I took up some leaves, and tossed them in the air. I 
 then found, that it came from the precise point which 
 her nose had settled at. And thus was I convinced, that 
 she had come out to ascertain which way the wind 
 came, and finding it likely to make her young ones cold 
 in the night, she had gone and called them up, though 
 it was nearly dark, and taken them off to a more com- 
 fortable birth. Was this an instinctive, or was it a 
 reasoning proceeding ? At any rate, let us not treat 
 such animals as if they were stocks and stones. 
 
 309. Poultry. — I merely mean to observe, as to 
 poultry, that they must be kept away from turnips and 
 cabbages, especially in the early part of the growth of 
 these plants. When turnips are an inch or two high 
 a good large flock of turkeys will destroy an acre in 
 I 5
 
 178 PaicES OF Land, Labovr, (Part H. 
 
 halt" a day, in four feet rows. Ducks and geese will do 
 the same. Fowls will do great mischief. If these 
 things cannot be kept out of the field, the crop must be 
 (abandoned, or the poultry killed. It is true, indeed, 
 that it is only near the house that poultry plague you 
 much : but, it is equally true, that the best and rich- 
 est land is precisely that which is near the house, and 
 this, on every account, whether of produce or appli- 
 cation, is the very land where you ought to have theSe 
 crops. 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 PRICES OF LAND, LABOUR, FOOD AND RAIMENT. 
 
 310. Land is of various prices, of course. But, as 
 I am, in this Chapter, addressing myself to English 
 Farmers, I am not speaking of the price either of land 
 in the wildernesses, or of land in the immediate vicinage 
 of great cities. The wilderness price is two or three 
 dollars an acre : the city price four or five hundred. 
 The land at the same distance from New York that 
 Chelsea is from London, is of higher price than the 
 land at Chelsea. The surprising growth of these cities, 
 and the brilliant prospect before them, give value to 
 every thing that is situated in or near them. 
 
 31 L It is my intention, however, to speak only of 
 farming land. This, too, is, of course, affected in its 
 value by the circumstance of distance from market; 
 but, the reader will make his own calculations as td 
 this matter. A farm, then, on this Island, any whtte 
 not nearer than thirty miles off, and not more distant 
 than sixty miles from. New York, with a good farm- 
 house, barn, stables, sheds, and styes ; the land fenced 
 into fields with posts and rails, the wood-land being in 
 the proportion of one to ten of the arable land, and there 
 being on the farm a pretty good orchard ; such a farm, 
 if the land be in a good state, and of an average (^ua-
 
 Chap. IX.] Fooo avd Raiment. |Tp 
 
 lity, is worth shty dollars an acre, or thirteen pounds 
 sterling ; of course, a i'arm of a hundred acres would 
 cost one thousand tliree hundred pounds. The rich 
 lands on the necks and bays, where there are meadoivs 
 and surprisingly productive orchards, and where there 
 is water carriacje, are worthy in some cases, three times 
 this price. But, what I have said will be sufficient to 
 enable the reader to form a pretty correct judgment on 
 the subject. In New Jersey, in Pennsylvania, every 
 where the price differs with the circumstances of water 
 carriage, quality of land, and distance from market. 
 
 312. When 1 say a good farm-house, I mean a 
 house a great deal better than the cfeneral run of farm- 
 houses in England. More neatly finished on the 
 inside. More in a parlour sort of style ; though round 
 about the house, things do not look so neat and 
 tight as in England. Even in Pennsylvania, and 
 amongst the Quakers too, there is a sort of out-ol- 
 doors sloveidiness, which is never hardly seen in 
 England. You see bits of wood, timber, boards, chips, 
 lyiug about, here and there, and pigs and cattl^ tramp- 
 ling about in a sort of confusion, which would make an 
 English farmer fret himself to death; but which is here 
 seen with great placidness. The out-buildings, except 
 the barns, and except in the finest counties of Penn- 
 sylvania, are not so numerous, or so capacious, as in 
 England, in proportion to the size of the farms. The 
 reason is, that the tceather is so dry. Cattle need not 
 covering a twentieth part so much as in England, ex- 
 cept hogs, who must be warm as well as dry. However, 
 these share with the rest, and very little covering they 
 get. 
 
 313. Labour is the great article of expense upon a 
 t'ann ; vet it is not nearly so great as in England, in 
 proportion to the amount of the produce of a farm, 
 especially if the poor-rates be, in both eases, included. 
 However, speaking of the positive wages, a good 
 *"<m-labourer has twenty-five pounds sterling a-year 
 and his board and lodging ; and a good day-labourer 
 has, upon an average, a dollar a day. A woman 
 servant^ in a farm-house, has from forty to fifty dollars 
 a year, or eleven pounds sterling. These are. the
 
 180^ Prices or Land, Labour, [Part 11. 
 
 aver.age of the wages throughout the country. But, 
 then, mind, the farmer has nothing (for, really, it is 
 not worth mentioning) to pay in poor-rates ; M'hich in 
 England, must always be added to the wages that 
 a farmer pays ; and, sometimes, they far exceed the 
 wage?. 
 
 314. It is, too, of importance to know, what sort 
 of labourers these Americans are; for, though a la- 
 bourer is a labourer, still there is some difference in 
 them ; and, these Americans are the best that I ever 
 salt). They mow four acres of oats, wheat, rye, or 
 barley in a day, and, with a cradle, lay it so smooth 
 in the swarths, that it is tied up in sheaths with the 
 greatest neatness and ease. They mow two acres and 
 a half of grass in a day, and they do the work Mell. 
 And the crops, upon an average, are all, except the 
 wheat, as heavy as in England. The English farmer 
 will want nothing more than these facts to convince him 
 that the labour, after all, is not so very dear. 
 
 315. The causes of these performances, so far 
 beyond those in England, is first, the men are tall 
 and well built ; they are bony rather than fleshy ; and 
 they live, as to food, as well as man can live. And, 
 secondly, they have been educated to do much in a 
 day. The farmer here generally is at the head of his 
 " boys," as they, in the kind language of the country, 
 are called. Here is the best of examples. My old 
 and beloved friend, Mr. Jajiks Pai;i., used, at the age 
 of nearly sixty to go at the head of his moicers, though 
 his fine farm was his own, and though he might, in 
 other respects, be called a rich man ; and, 1 have 
 heard, that 31r. Elias Hicks, the famous Quaker 
 Preacher, who lives about nine miles from this spot, 
 has this year, at seventy years of age, cradled down 
 four acres of rye in a day. I ^ish some of the 
 preachers of other descriptions, especially our fat 
 parsons in England, would think a little of this, and 
 would betake themselves to " work with their hands the 
 " things which be good, that they may have to give to 
 " him who needeth," and not go on any longer gorman- 
 dizing and swilling upon the labour of those who 
 need.
 
 Chap. IX.] Food and Raiment. 181 
 
 316, Besides the great quantity of work performed 
 by the American labourer, his skill, the versatility of 
 his ialent, is a great thing. Every man can use an aare, 
 a saw, and a hammer. Scarcely one who cannot do 
 any job at rough carpentering, and mend a plough or 
 a wagon. Very few indeed, who cannot kill and 
 dress pigs and sheep, and many of them oxen and 
 calves. Every farmer is a neat butcher; a butcher for 
 market ; and, of course, " the boys " must learn. 
 This is a great convenience. It makes you so inde- 
 pendent as to a main part of the means of housekeep- 
 ing. All are ploughmen. In short, a good labourer 
 here, can do any thing that is to be done upon a farm. 
 
 317. The operations necessary in miniature cultiva- 
 tion they are very awkward at. The gardens are 
 ploughed in general. An American labourer uses a 
 spade in a very awkward manner. They poke the 
 earth about as if they had no eyes ; and toil and muck 
 themselves half to death to dig as much ground in a 
 day as a Surrey man would dig in about an hour of 
 hard work. Banking, hedging, they know nothing 
 about. They have no idea of the use of a bill-hnok, 
 which is so adroitly used in the coppices of Hampshire 
 and Sussex, An axe is their tool, and with that tool, 
 at cutting doum trees or cutting them up, they will do 
 ten times as much i)i a day as any other men that I 
 ever saw. Set one of these men on upon a wood of 
 timber trees, and his slaughter will astonish you. A 
 neighbour of mine tells a story of an Irishman, who 
 promised he could do any thing, and whom, therefore, 
 to begin with, the employer sent into the wood to cut 
 down a load of wood to burn. He staid a long while 
 away with the team, and the farmer went to him fearing 
 some accident had happened. " What are you about 
 all this time!" said the farmer. The man was hack- 
 liig away at a hickory tree, but had not got it half 
 down ; and that was all he had done. An American, 
 black or white, would have had half a dozen trees cut 
 down, cut up into lengths, put upon the carriage, and 
 brought home, in the time, 
 
 318, So that our men, who come from England, 
 must not expect, that, in these common labours of the
 
 Iff Prices op Land, Labour, [Part II. 
 
 country, they are to surpass, or even equal, these 
 *' Yankees" who, of all men that 1 ever saw, are thft 
 most active and the most hardy. They skip over a 
 fence like a greyhound. They will catch you a pig in 
 an open field by racing him down; and they are afraid 
 of nothing. This was the sort of stuff that filled the 
 frigates of Decatur, Hull, and Brainbridge. IVo 
 wonder that they triumphed M'hen opposed to poor 
 pressed creatures, worn out by length of service and ill- 
 usage, and encouraged by no hope of fair-play. My 
 Lord Cochrane said, in his place in parliament, that 
 it would be so ; and so it was. Poor Cashman, that 
 brave Irishman, with his dying breath, accused 
 the government and the merchants of England of 
 witliholding from him his pittance of prize money! 
 Ought not such a vile, robbing, murderous system to 
 be destroyed 1 
 
 319. Of the same active, hardy, and brave stuff, 
 too, was composed the army of Jackson, who drove 
 the invaders into the Gulph of Mexico, and who would 
 have driven into the same Gulph the army of Waterloo, 
 and the heroic gentleman, too, who lent his hand to 
 the murder of Marshal Ney. This is the stuff that 
 stands between the rascals, called the Holy Alliance, 
 and the slavery of the whole civilized world. This is 
 the stuff that gives us Englishmen an asylum ; that 
 gives us time to breathe ; that enables us to ^eal our 
 tyrants blows, which, without the existence of this 
 stuff, they never would receive. This America, this 
 scene of happiness under a free government, is the 
 beam in the eye, the thorn in the side, the w^orm in 
 the vitals, of every despot upon the face of the earth. 
 
 320. An American labourer is not regulated, as to 
 lime, by clocks and xcatches. The sun, who seldom 
 hides his face, tells him when to begin in the morning 
 and whtn to leave off at night. He has a dollar, a 
 whole dollar for his work ; but then it is the work of a 
 whole day. Here is no dispute about hours. " Hours 
 •' were made for slaves," is an old saying ; and, really, 
 they seem here to act upon it as a practical maxim. 
 This is a great thing in agricultural affairs. It pre- 
 vents 60 many disputes. It removes so great a cause
 
 Chap. IX.} Food and Raiment. tBB 
 
 of disagreement. The American labourers, like the 
 tavern keepers, are never sei~cile, but always civil. 
 Neither boobishness nor meanness mark their character. 
 They never creep and faicn, and are never rude. 
 Employed about your house as day-labourers, they never 
 come to interlope tor victuals or drink. ' They have no 
 idea of such a thing : their pride would restrain them 
 if their plenty did not ; and, thus would it be with all 
 labourers, in all countries, were they left to enjoy the 
 fair produce of their labour. Full pocket or empty- 
 pocket, these American labourers are always the same 
 men : no saucy cunning in the one case, and no base 
 crawling in the other. This, too, arises from the free 
 institutions of government. A man has a voice because 
 he is a man, and not because he is the possessor of 
 money. And, shall 1 7iev€r see our English labourers 
 in this happy state \ 
 
 321. Let those English farmers, who love to see a, 
 poor wretched labourer stand trembling before them 
 with his hat off, and who think no more of him than of 
 a dog, remain where they are ; or, go off, on the 
 cavalry horses, to the devil at once, if they wish to 
 avoid the tax-gatherer ; for, they would, here, meet 
 with so many mortifications, that they would, to a cer- 
 tainty, hang themselves in a month. 
 
 322. There are some, and even many, farmers, vdio 
 do not tcork themselves in the Jields. But, they all 
 attend to the thing, and are all equally civil to their 
 working people They manage their affairs very ju- 
 diciously. Little talking. Orders plainly given in few 
 words, and in a decided tone. This is their only 
 secret. 
 
 323. The cattle and implements used in husbandry 
 are cheaper than in England ; that is to say, lower 
 priced. The wear and tear not nearly half so much as 
 upon a farm in England of the same size. The cli- 
 mate, the soil, the gentleness and docility of the horses 
 and oxen, the lightness of the wagons and carts, the 
 lightness and toughness of the tfoo</ of which husbandry 
 implements are made, the simplicity of the harness, 
 and, above all, the ingenuity and handiness of the 
 workmen in repairing^ and in making shift ; all these
 
 184 Prices of Land, Labour, &c. [Part IL 
 
 make the implements a matter of very little note. 
 Where horses are kept, the shoeing of them is the 
 most serious kind of expense. 
 
 324. The first business of a farmer is, here, and 
 ought to be every where, to live tcell : to live in ease 
 and plenty ; to " keep hospitality," as the old English 
 saying was. To save money is a secondary considera- 
 tion ; but, any English farmer, who is a good farmer 
 there, may, if he will bring his industry and care with 
 him, and be sure to leave his pride and insolence 
 (if he have any) along with his anxiety, behind him, 
 live in ease and plenty here, and keep hospitality, and 
 save a great parcel of money too. If he have the Jack- 
 Daw taste for heaping little round things together in a 
 hole, or chest, he may follow his taste. I have often 
 thought of my good neighbour, John Gater, who, if 
 he were here, with his pretty clipped hedges, his gar- 
 den-looking fields, and his neat homesteads, would have 
 visitors from far and near; and, while every one would 
 admire and praise, no soul would envy him his pos^ 
 sessions. Mr. Gateb would soon have all these things. 
 The hedges only want planting ; and he would feel .so 
 comfortably to know that the Botley Parson could 
 never again poke his nose into his sheep-fold or his 
 pig-stye. However, let me hope, rather, that the 
 destruction of the Borough-tyrann}, will soon make 
 England a country fit for an honest and industrious 
 man to live in. Let me hope, that a relief from grind- 
 ing taxation will soon relieve men of their fears of 
 dying in poverty, and will, thereby, restore to England 
 the " hospitality" for which she was once famed, but 
 which now really exists no where but in America.
 
 [ 185 ] 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 EXPENSES OF HOUSE-KEEPING. 
 
 325. It must be obvious, that these must be in pro- 
 portion to the number in family, and to the style ot" 
 living. Therefore, every one knowing how he stands 
 in these two respects, the best thing for me to do is 
 to give an account of the j)rices of house-rent, food, 
 raiment, and servants ; or, as they are called here, 
 helpers. 
 
 326. In the great cities and to'vns house-rent is 
 very high-priced; but, then, nobody but mad people 
 live there except they have business there, and, then, 
 they are paid back their rent in the -profits of that 
 business. This is so plain a matter, that no argument 
 ivnecessary. It is unnecessary to speak about the ex- 
 penses o{ n farm-house ; because the farmer eats, and 
 very frequently wears, his own produce. If these be 
 high-priced, so is that part which he sells. Thus both 
 ends meet with him. 
 
 327. I am, therefore, supposing the case of a mart, 
 who Ibllows no business, and who lives upon what he 
 has got. In England he cannot eat and drink and wear 
 the interest of his money ; for the Boroughmongers 
 hare pawned half his income, and thev will have it, or 
 his blood. He wishes to escape from this alternative. 
 He wishes to keep his blood, and enjoy his money too. 
 He would come to America ; but he does not know, 
 whether prices here will not make up for the robberj 
 of the Borough-villains ; and he wishes to know, too, 
 tchat sort of society he is going into. Oi the latter I 
 will speak in the next chapter. 
 
 328. The price of house-rent and fuel is, when at 
 more than three miles from New York, as low as it is 
 at the same distance from any great city or town in 
 England. The price of wheaten bread is a third lower 
 thaji it is in any part of England. The price of beef ,
 
 186 Expenses op Housb-kekping. [Part II. 
 
 viutton, lamb, veal, small pork, hog-meat, poultry, is 
 one half the London price; the first as good, the two 
 next very nearly as good, and all the rest tar, very far, 
 better than in London, The sheep and lambs that I 
 now kill for my house are as fai as any that I ever saw 
 in all my hfe ; and they have been running in wild 
 ground, wholly uncultivated for many years, all the 
 summer. A lamb, killed the week before last, weigh- 
 iog ill the whole, thirty-eight pounds, had Jive pounds 
 of loose fat and three pounds and ten ounces of suet. - 
 We cut a pound of solid fat from each breast ; and, 
 after that it was too fat to be pleasant to eat. My 
 flock being small, forty, or thereabouts, of some neigh- 
 bours joined them ; and they have all got fat together. 
 I have missed the interlopers lately : I suppose the 
 " Yorkers" have eaten them up by this time. What 
 they have fattened on except brambles and cedars, I am 
 sure I do not know. If any Englishman should be 
 afraid that he will find no roast-beef here, it may be 
 sufficient to tell him, that an ox was killed, last winter, 
 at Philadelphia, the quarters of which weighed two 
 thousand, tioo hundred, and some odd pounds, and he 
 was sold TO THE BUTCHER for one thousand 
 three hundred dollars. This is proof enough of the 
 spirit of enterprize, and of the disposition in the public 
 to encourage it, I believe this to have been the fattest 
 ox that ever was killed in the world. Three times as 
 much money, or, perhaps, ten times as much, might 
 have been made, if the ox had been shown for mo^- 
 ney. But, this the owner u-ould vot permit ; and he 
 sold the ox in that condition. I need hardly say that 
 the owner was a Quaker. New Jersey had the honour 
 of producing this ox, and the owner's name was JOB 
 TYLER. 
 
 329. That there must be good bread in America is- 
 pretty evident from the well known fact, that hundred* 
 of thousands of barrels of flour are, most years sent t« 
 England, finer than any that England can produce. 
 And, having now provided the two principal articles, 
 I will suppose, as a matter of course, that a gentleman: 
 will have a garden, an orchard, and a cow or two ; but, 
 if he should be able (no easy matter) to find a genteel
 
 Chap. X.] EXPENSBS OF HoUSB-KEEPINO. ] 18f 
 
 country-house without these conveniences, he may buy 
 butter, cheaper, and, upon an average, better th^n in 
 England. The garden stuff, if he send to New York 
 for it, he must buy pretty dear ; and, faith, he ought 
 to buy it dear, if he will not have some planted and 
 presened. 
 
 330. Cheese, of the North River produce, I have, 
 bought as good of Mr. Stickler of New York as I 
 ever tasted in all ray life ; and, indeed, no better cheese 
 need be wished for than Avhat is now made in this coun- 
 try. The average price is about seven, pence a pound 
 (English money), which is much lower than even mid' 
 dling cheese is in England. Perhaps, ^reneraZ/j/ speak- 
 ing, the cheese here is not so good as the better kinds 
 in England ; but, there is none here so poor as the 
 poorest in England. Indeed the people would not eat 
 it, which is the best security against its being made. 
 Mind, I state distinctly, that as good cheese as I ever 
 tasted, if not the best, was of American produce. I 
 know the article well. Bread and cheese dinners ha.ve 
 been the dinners of a good fourth of my life. I know 
 the Cheshire, Gloucester, Wiltshire, Stilton, and the 
 Parmasan ; and I never tasted better than Ameri- 
 can cheese, bought of Mr. Sticklek, in Broad Street, 
 New York. And this cheese Mr. Stickler informs 
 me is nothing uncommon in the county of Cheshire ia 
 Massachusetts ; he knoM's at least a hundred persons 
 himself that make it equally good. And, indeed, why 
 should it not be thus in a country where the pasture is 
 so rich ; where the swn warms every thing into sweet- 
 ness ; where the cattle eat the grass close under the 
 ihade of the thickest trees; which we know well they 
 will not do in England. Take any fruit which has 
 grown in the shade in England, and you will find that 
 it has not half the sweetness in it, that there is in fruit 
 of the same bulk, grown in the sun. But, here the sun 
 sends his heat down through all the boughs and leaves. 
 The manufactuHng of cheese is not yet generatly 
 brought, in this country, to the English perfection; 
 but, here are all the materials, and the rest will soon 
 follow. 
 
 981. Groceries, m they are called, are, upon an
 
 188 Expenses of HorsE-KEEPixc. [Part II. 
 
 average, at far less than half the English price. Tea, 
 sugar, coffee, spices, chocolate, cocoa, salt, sweet oil ; 
 all free of the Boroughmongers' taxes and their jtaicn^ 
 are so cheap as to be within the reach of every one. 
 Chocolate, which is a treat to the rich, in England, is 
 here used even by the negroes. Sweet oil, raisins, cur- 
 rants ; all the things from the Levant, are at & fourth 
 or ffth of the English price. The English people, 
 who pay enormously to keep possession of the East 
 and West Indies, purchase the produce even of the 
 English possessions at a price double of that which 
 the Americans give for that very produce ! VfhsX a 
 hellish oppression must that people live under! Can- 
 dles and soap (quality for quality) are half the Eng- 
 lish price. Wax candles (beautiful) are at a third of 
 the English price. It is no very great piece of extra- 
 vagence to burn wax candles constantly here, and it 
 is frequently done by genteel people, Avho do not make 
 their own candles. 
 
 332. Fish I have not mentioned, because fish is not 
 every where to be had in abundance. But, any where 
 near the coast it is ; and it is so cheap, that one won- 
 ders how it can be brought to market for the money. 
 Fine Black-Rock, as good, at least, as codfish, I have 
 seen sold, and in cold weather too, at an English far- 
 thing a pound. They now bring us fine fish round the 
 country to our doors, at an English three pence a pound. 
 I believe they count Jifty or sixty sorts of fish in New 
 York market, as the average. Oysters, other shell- 
 fish, called clams. In short, the variety and abundance 
 are such that I cannot describe them. 
 
 333. An idea of the state of plenty may be formed 
 from these facts: nobody but the free negroes who 
 have families ever think of eating a sheep'n head and 
 pluck. It is seldom that oxen's heads are used at home, 
 or sold, and never in the country. In the course of the 
 year hundreds of calves' heads, large bits and whole 
 
 joints of meat, are left on the shambles, at New York, 
 tor any body to take away that will. They generally 
 fall to" the share of the street hogs, a thousand or two of 
 'which are constantly fatting in New York on the meat 
 and fish flung out of the houses. I shall be told, that it
 
 Chap. X.] Expenses of House-keeping. 189 
 
 is only in hot weather, that the shambles are left thus 
 garnished. Very true ; but, are the shambles of any 
 other country thus garnished in hot weather? Oh! 
 no ! If it were not for the superabundance, all the food 
 would be sold at some price or other. 
 
 334. After bread, flesh, fish, fowl, butter, cheese and 
 groceries, comes frtt it. Apples, pears, cherries, peaches 
 at a teyith part of the English price. The other day I 
 met a man going to market with a wagon load of icinter 
 pears. He had high boards on the sides of the wagon, 
 and his wagon held about 40 or 50 bushels. I have 
 bought very good apples this year for four pence half- 
 penny (English) a bushel, to boil for little pigs. Be- 
 sides these, strawberries grow wild in abundance ; but 
 no one w ill take the trouble to get them. Huckle-berriea 
 in the woods in great abundance, chesnuts all over the 
 country. Four pence halt-penny (English) a quart for 
 these latter. Cranberries, the finest fruit for tarts that 
 ever grew, are bought for about a dollar a bushel, and 
 they will keep, flung down in the corner of a room, for 
 five months in the year. As a sauce to venison or mut- 
 ton, they are as good as currant jelly. Pine apples in 
 abundance, for several months in the year, at an average 
 of an English shilling each. Melons at an average of 
 an English eight pence. In short, what is there not in 
 the way of fruit { All excellent of their kinds and all 
 for a mere trifle, compared to what they cost in Eng- 
 land. 
 
 335. I am afraid to speak of drink, lest I should be 
 supposed to countenance the common use of it. But, pro- 
 testing most decidedly against this conclusion, I proceed 
 to inform those, who are not content with the cow for 
 vintner and brewer, that all the materials for making 
 people drunk, or muddle headed, are much cheaper 
 here than in England. Beer, good ale, I mean, a great 
 deal better than the common public-house beer in Eng- 
 land ; in short, good, strong clear ale, is, at New York, 
 eight dollars a barrel ; that is, about fourteen English 
 pence a gallon. Brew yourself, in the countrj', and it is 
 about seven English pence a gallon ; that is to say, less 
 than two pence a quart. No Borough-mongers' tax on 
 malt, hops, or beer ! Portugal wine is about half the
 
 IW ExPENSfes OP HousE-xEEPiNo. [Part It. 
 
 price that it is in England. French wine a sixth part 
 of the English price. Brandy and Rura abotrt the same 
 in proportion ; and the common spirits of the country 
 are about three shillings and sixpence (English) a ^a//o7i. 
 Come on, then, if you love toping; for here you may 
 drink yourselves blind at the price of sixpence. 
 
 336. Wearing Apparel comes chiefly from England, 
 and all the materials of dress are as cheap as they are 
 there ; for, though there is a duty laid on the importa- 
 tion, the absence of taxes, and the cheap food and drink, 
 enable the retailer to sell as low here as there. Shoes 
 are cheaper than in England ; for, though shoemakers 
 are well paid for their labour, there is no Borough-vil- 
 lain to tax the leather. All the India and French goods 
 are at half the English price. Here no ruffian can seize 
 you by the throat and tear off your suspected handker- 
 chief^ Here Signor Waithman, or any body in that 
 line, might have sold French gloves and shawls without 
 being tempted to quit the field of politics as a compro- 
 mise with the government ; and without any breach of 
 covenants, after being suffered to escape with only a 
 gentle squeeze. 
 
 337. Household Furniture, all cheaper than in Eng- 
 land. Mahogany timber a third part of the English 
 price. The distance shorter to bring it, and the tax 
 next to nothing on importatiort. The woods here, the 
 pine, the ash, the white oak, the walnut, the tubp-tree, 
 and many others, all excellent. The workrpan paid 
 high wages, but no tax. No Borough-villains to share 
 in the amount of the price. 
 
 338. Horses, carriages, harness, all as good, as gay, 
 and cheaper than in England. I hardly ever saw a rip 
 in this country. The hackney coach horses and the 
 coaches themselves, at New York, bear no resemblance 
 to things of the same name in London. The former are 
 all good, sound, clean, and handsome. What the latter 
 are I need describe in no other way than to say, that the 
 coaches seem fit for nothing but the fire and the horses 
 for the dogs. 
 
 339. Domestic servants! This is a weighty article : 
 "lot in the cost, however, so much as in the plague. A 
 'tjood man sercant is worlfa thirty pvunds sterHng a jea^
 
 Chap. X.] Expenses of House-keepixo. 101 
 
 and a. good woman, servant twenty pounds sterling a year. 
 But, this IS not all ; for, in the first place, they will hire 
 only by the month. This is >\hat they, in lact, do in 
 England ; for, there they can quit at a month's learning. 
 The man will not wear a livery, any more than he will 
 wear a halter round his neck. This is no great matter ; 
 for, as your neighbours' men are of the same taste, you 
 expose yourself to no humiliation on this score. Neither 
 men nor women will allow you to call them servants, 
 and they will take especial care not to call themselves 
 by that name. This seems something very capricious, 
 at the least; and, as people in such situations of life, 
 really are servants, according to even the sense which 
 MosKs gives to the word, when he forbids the woi:king 
 of the inati servant and the 7naid scrva7it, the objection, 
 the rooted aversion, to the name, seems to bespeak, a 
 mixture of! false pride and of insolence, neither of which 
 belong to the American character, even in the lowest 
 walks of life. I will, therefore, explain the cause of 
 this dislike to the name of servant. When this country 
 was first settled, there were mo people that laboured for 
 other people ; but, as man is always trying to throw the 
 working part off his own shoulders, as we see by' the 
 conduct of priests in all ages, negroes were soon intro- 
 duced. Englishmen, who had fled from tyranny at 
 home, were naturally shy of calling other men their 
 slaves; and, therefore, '■^for more grace," as Master 
 Matthew says in the play, they called their slaves 
 servants. But, though I doubt not that this device was 
 quite elficient in quieting their own consciences, it gave 
 rise to the notion, that slave and servatit meant one and 
 the same thing, a conclusion perfectly natural and di- 
 rectly deducible from the premises. Ilence every free 
 man and woman have rejected with just disdain the 
 appellation of servant. One would think, however, 
 that they might be reconciled to it by the conduct of 
 some of their superiors in life, who, without the smallest 
 apparent reluctance, call themselves " Pidilic Servants," 
 in imitation, I suppose, of English Ministers, and bis 
 . Holiness, the Pope, M'ho, in the excess of his humility, 
 " ^Us himself, " the Servant of the Servants of the 
 tnrd,'* But, perhaps, the American Domestics teiY«
 
 192 Expenses of HowsE-KEEfiNc, [Part II, 
 
 observed, that " Public Servant" really means master. 
 Be the cause what it may, however, they continue most 
 obstinately to scout the name of servant ; and, though 
 they still keep a civil tongue in their head, there is not 
 one of them that will not resent the affront with more 
 bitterness than any other that you can offer. The man, 
 therefore, who would deliberately offer such an affront 
 must be a fool. But, there is an inconvenience far 
 greater than this. People in general are so comfortably 
 situated, that very few, and then only of those who are 
 pushed hard, will become domestics to any body. So 
 that, generally speaking. Domestics of both sexes are 
 far from goocl. They are honest; but they are not 
 obedient. They are careless. Wanting frequently in 
 the greater part of those qualities which make their 
 services conducive to the neatness of houses and comfort 
 of families. What a difference would it make in this 
 country, if it could be supplied with nice, clean, dutiful 
 English maid servants ! As to the vien, it does not much 
 signify ; but, for the want of the maids, nothing but the 
 absence of grinding taxation can compensate. As to 
 bringing them with you, it is as wild a project as it would 
 be to try to carry the sunbeams to England. They will 
 begin to change before the ship gets on soundings ; and, 
 before they have been here a month, you must turn them 
 out of doors, or they will you. If, by any chance, you 
 find them here, it may do ; but bring them out and keep 
 them you cannot. The best way is to put on your phi- 
 losophy ; never to look at this evil without, at the same 
 time, looking at the many good things that you find 
 here. Make the best selection you can. Give good 
 wages, not too much work, and resolve, at all events, to 
 treat them with civility. 
 
 840. However, what is this plague, compared with 
 that of the tax gatherer ? What is this plague com- 
 pared with the constant sight of beggars and paupers, 
 and the constant dread of becoming a pauper or beggar 
 yourself J If your commands are not obeyed with such 
 alacrity as in England, you have, at any rate, nobody 
 to command you. You are not ordered to " stand and 
 deliver" twenty or thirty times in the year by thfi iiisolent 
 agent of Boroughmongers, No one comes to forbid yoii
 
 Chap. X.] ExPEKSES OF HOCSE-KEEPIXG. 193 
 
 to open or shut up a window. No insolent set of Com- 
 missioners send their order tor you to dance attendance 
 
 •on tliem, to s/iew cause why they should not double-tax 
 
 ■ you; and, when you Iiave shewn cause, even on your 
 oath, make you pay the tax, laugh in your face, and 
 Jeave you an appeal from themselves to another set, 
 deriving tlicir authority from the same source, and having 
 a similar interest in oppressing you, and thus laying 
 
 ■•.your property prostrate beneath the hoof of an insolent 
 and remorseless tyranny. Free, wholly free, from this 
 tantalizing, this grinding, this odious curse, what need 
 you care about the petty plagues of Domestic Servants ? 
 341. However, as there are some men and some 
 women, wlio can never be at heart's ease, unless they 
 have the power of domineering over somebody or other, 
 and who will rather be slaves themselves than not have 
 it in their power to treat others as slaves, it becomes a 
 man of fortune, proposing to emigrate to America, to 
 consider soberly, whether he, or his wife, be of this 
 taste ; and, if the result of his consideration be in the 
 affirmative, his best way will be to continue to live under 
 
 - the Boroughmongers, or, which I would rather recom- 
 
 ^mend, hang himself at once.
 
 C 194 ] 1^ 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 
 HANKERS, CUSTOMS, AND CHARACTER OP THE PEOPLE. 
 
 342. All these are, s:enerally speaking, the same as 
 those of the people of England. The French call this 
 people Les- Anglo Americains ; and, indeed, what are 
 they else 1 Of the manners and customs somewhat 
 peculiar to America 1 have said so much, here and 
 there, in former Chapters, that 1 can hardly say any 
 thing new here upon these matters. But, as society is 
 naturally a great thing with a gentleman, who thinks of 
 coming hither with his wife and children, 1 will endea- 
 vour to describe the society that he will find here. To 
 give general descriptions is not so satisfactory as it is to 
 deal a little in particular instances; to tell of what one 
 has seen and experienced. This is what I shall do; 
 and, in this Chapter I wish to be regarded as addressing 
 myself to a most worthy and public-spirited gentleman 
 of moderate fortune in Lancashire, who, with a large 
 family, now balances whether he shall come, or stay. 
 
 343. Now, then, my dear Sir, this people contains 
 very few persons verj' much raised in men's estimation, 
 above the general mass ; for, though there are some 
 men of immense fortunes, their wealth does very little 
 indeed in the way of purchasing even the outward signs 
 of respect ; and, as to adulation, it is not to be pur- 
 chased with love or money. Men, be they what they 
 may, are generally called by their tico names, without 
 any thing prefixed or added. I am one of the greatest 
 men in this country at present ; for people in gene- 
 ral call me " Cohbett," though the QuaKers provok- 
 ingly persevere in piitting the William before it, and 
 my old friends in Pennsylvania, use even the word 
 Billy, which, in the very sound of the letters, is an an- 
 tidote to every thing like thirst for distinction. 
 
 344. Fielding, in one of his roioances, observes, that
 
 Chap. XI.] Character of the People. 19S 
 
 there are but few cases, in which a husband can be 
 justified in availing himself of the right which the law 
 gives him to bestow manual chastisement upon his wife, 
 and that one of these, he thinks, is, when any preten- 
 sions to superiority of blood make their appearance in 
 her language and conduct. They have a better cure 
 for this malady here; namely; silent, but, ineffable 
 contempt. 
 
 345. It is supposed, in England, that this equality 
 of estimation must beget a general coarseness and rude- 
 ness of behaviour. Never was there a greater mistake. 
 No man Ukes to be treated with disrespect ; and, when 
 he finds that he can obtain respect only by treating 
 others with respect, he will use that only means. When 
 he finds that nether haughtiness nor wealth will 
 bring him a civil word, he becomes civil himself; and, 
 I repeat it again and again, this is a country of uni" 
 versat civility. 
 
 346. The causes of hypocrisy are the fear of loss 
 and the hope of gain. Men crawl to those, whom, in 
 their hearts, they despise, because they fear the effects 
 of their ill-will and hope to gain by their good-will. The 
 circumstances of all ranks are so easy here, that there 
 is no cause for hypocrisy; and the thing is not of so 
 fascinating a nature, that men should love it for its 
 own sake. 
 
 347. The boasting of wealth, and the endeavouring 
 to disguise poverty, these two acts, so painful to con- 
 template, are almost total strangers in this country; 
 for, no man can gain adulation or respect by his wealth, 
 and no man dreads the effects of poverty, because no 
 man sees any dreadful effects arising from poverty. 
 
 34B That anxious eagerness to get on, which is sel- 
 dom unaccompanied with some degree of envy of more 
 successful neighbours, and which has its foundatio 
 first in a dread of future want, and next in a desire to 
 obtain dialinction by means of wealth ; this anxious 
 eagerness, so unamiable in itself, and so unpleasant an 
 inmate of the breast, so great a sourer of the temper, 
 is a stranger to America, where accidents and losses, / 
 which would drive an Englishman half mad, produce .' 
 but Tery little agitatiou. 
 
 K 2
 
 19^ Manners, Customs, AKD [t^artll. 
 
 349. From the absence of so many causes of un- 
 easiness, of env3', of jealousy, of rivalsliip, and of mu- 
 tual dislike, society, that is to say, the intercourse 
 between man and man, and family and family, becomes 
 easy and pleasant ; while the universal plenty is the 
 cause of universal hospitality. I know, and have ever 
 known, but little of the people in the cities and towns 
 in America ; but, the difference between them and the 
 people in the country can only be such as is found in 
 all other countries. As to the manner of living in the 
 country, I was, the other day, at a gentleman's house, 
 and 1 asked the lady for her bill of fare for the year. 
 I saw fourteen fat hogs, weighing about twenty score a 
 ■piece, which were to come into the house the next 
 Monday ; for here they slaughter them all in one day. 
 This led me to ask, " Why, in God's name, what do 
 *' you eat in a year 1 " The bill of fare was this, for 
 this present year : about this same quantity of hog- 
 Tneat ; four beeves ; and forty-six fat sheep ! Besides 
 the sucking pigs (of which we had then one on the table), 
 besides lambs, and besides the produce of seventy hen 
 fowls, not to mention good parcels of geese, ducks and 
 turkeys, but, not to forget a garden of three quarters of 
 an acre and the butter of ten cows, not one ounce of 
 •which is ever sold ! What do you think of that \ Why, 
 you will say, this must be some great overgrown farm- 
 er, that has swallowed up half the country ; or some 
 nabob sort of merchant. Not at all. He has only owe 
 hundred and fifty four acres of land, (all he consumes 
 is of the produce of this land), and he lives in the same 
 house that his English-born grandfather lived in. 
 
 350. When the hogs are killed, the house is full of 
 work. The sides are salted down as pork. The hams 
 are smoked. The lean meats are made into sausages, 
 of which, in this family, they make about two hundred 
 weight. These latter, with broiled fish, eggs, dried 
 beef, dried mutton, slices of ham, t»ngue, bread, buttw, 
 cheese, short cakes, buck-wheat cakes, sweet meats 
 of various sorts, and many other things, make up the 
 breakfast fare of the year, and, a dish of beef steakes is 
 frequently added. 
 
 351, When one sees this sort of living, with th»
 
 Chap. XI.3 Character of the People. 197 
 
 houses full of good beds, ready for the guests as well 
 as the family to sleep in, we cannot help perceiving, 
 that this is that " Eiiglish Hosjntalihj" of which we 
 have read so much ; but, which Boronghmongers' taxes 
 and pawns have long since driven out of England, 
 This American way of life puts one in mind of Fortks- 
 cue's fine description of the happy state of the En- 
 glish, produced by their good laics, which kept every 
 man's property sacred, even from the grasp of the 
 king. " Every inhabitant is at his Liberty fully to use 
 " and enjoy whatever his farm produceth, the Fruits of 
 " the Earth, the Increase of his Flock, and the like : 
 " All the Improvements he makes, whether by his own 
 " proper Industry, or of those he retains in his Service, 
 " are his own to use and enjoy without the Lett, Inter- 
 " ruption, or Denial of any : If he be in any wise in- 
 " jured, or oppressed, he shall have his Amends and 
 " Satisfaction against the party oflTending : Hence it 
 " is, that the Inhabitants are rich in Gold, Silver, and 
 " in all the Necessaries and Conveniences of Life. 
 " They drink no Water, unless at certain Times, upon 
 " a Religious Score, and by way of doing Penance. 
 *' They are fed, in great Abundance, with all sorts 
 " of Flesh and Fish, of which they have plenty 
 *' every where ; they are cloathed throughout in good 
 V Woollens; their Bedding and other Furniture in their 
 " Houses are of Wool, and that in great Store : They 
 "are also well provided with all other Sorts of House- 
 " hold Goods, and necessary Implements for Hus- 
 " bandry : Every one, according to his Rank, hath all 
 " Thing* ichich conduce to make Life easy and happy. 
 '♦ They are not sued at Law but before the Ordinary 
 " Judges, where they are treated with Mercy and Jus- 
 " tice, according to the Laws of the Land ; neither are 
 " they impleaded in Point of Property, or arraigned 
 " for any Capital Crime, how heinous soever, but be- 
 " fore the King's Judges, and according to the Laws 
 " of the Land. These are the Advantages consequent 
 " from that Political Mixt Government which obtains 
 
 " in England " 
 
 352. This passage, which was first pointed out io 
 me by Sir Francis Burdett, describes the state of
 
 198 Manners, Customs, AND [Part II. 
 
 England four hundred years ago ; and this, with thd 
 polish of modern times added, is now the state of the 
 Americans. Their forefathers brought the " English 
 HospitaHty " with . them ; for when they left the coun- 
 try, the infernal Boroughmonger Funding system had 
 not begun. The Stuarts were religious and prero- 
 gative tyrants : but they were not, like their successors, 
 the Boroughmongers, taxing, plundering tyrants. Their 
 quarrels with their subjects were about mere words: 
 with the Boroughmongers it is a question of purees and 
 j^trong-boxes, of goods and chattels, lands and tene- 
 ments. ^*^ Confiscation" is their word ;• and you must 
 submit, be hanged, or flee. They take away men's 
 property at their pleasure, tvithotit any appeal to any 
 tribunal. They appoint Commissionei's to seize what 
 they choose. There is, in fact, no law of property 
 left. The bishop-begotten and hell-born system of 
 Funding has stripped England of every vestige of 
 what was her ancient character. Her hospitality along 
 with her freedom have crossed the Atlantic ; and 
 here they are to shame our ruffian tyrants, if they were 
 sensible of shame, and to give shelter to those who may 
 be disposed to deal them distant blows. 
 
 353. It is not with a little bit of dry toast, so neatly 
 put in a rack : a bit of butter so round and small ; a 
 little milk-pot so pretty and so empty ; an egg for you, 
 the host and hostess 7iot liking eggs. It is not with 
 looks that seem to say, " don't eat too much, for the 
 *' tax-gatherer is coming." It is not thus that you are 
 received in America. You are not much asked, not 
 much pressed, to eat and drink ; but, such an abun- 
 dance is spread before you, and so hearty and so cor- 
 dial is your reception, that you instantly lose all 
 restraint," and are tempted to feast whether you be 
 hungry or not. And, though the manner and styh are 
 widely different in different houses, the abundance 
 every where prevails. This is the strength of the 
 government: a happy people: and no government 
 ought to have any other strength. 
 
 354. But, you may say, perhaps, that plenty, how- 
 ever great, is not all that is wanted. Very true ; for 
 the mind is of more account than the carcass. But,
 
 Ghap. XI.] Character of the People. 109 
 
 here is mind too. These repasts, amongst people of 
 any figure, come forth under the superintendance of 
 industrious and accomplished house- wives, or their 
 daughters, who all read a great deal, and in -vrhora 
 that gentle treatment from parents and husbands, 
 which arises from an absence of racking anxiety, has 
 created an habitual, and even an hereditary good 
 humour. These ladies can converse with you upon 
 almost any subject, and the ease and gracefulness of 
 their behaviour are surpassed by those of none of even 
 our best tempered English women. They fade at an 
 earlier age than in England; but, till then, they are 
 as beautiful as the women in Cornwall, which contains, 
 to my thinking, the prettiest women in our country. 
 However, young or old, blooming or fading, well or 
 ill, rich or poor, they still preserve their good humour. 
 " But, since, alas ! frail beauty must decay, 
 " Curl'd, or uncurl'd, since locks will turn to grey ; 
 " Since painted, or not painted, all shall fade, 
 " And she who scorns a man must die a maid ; 
 " What, then, remains, but well our pow'r to use, 
 " And keep^oorf humour still, whate'er we lose? 
 " And, trust me, Dear, good-humour can preyail, 
 " When flights and fits and screams and scolding fail." 
 
 335. This beautiful passage, from the most beautiful 
 of poets, which ought to be fastened in large print 
 upon every lady's dressing table, the American women, 
 of all ranks, seem to have by heart. Even amongst 
 the very lowest of the people, you seldom hear of that 
 torment, which the old proverb makes the twin of a 
 smoky house. 
 
 356. There are very few really ignorant men in 
 America of native growth. Every farmer is more or 
 less of a reader. There is no brogue, no provincial 
 dialect. No class like that which the French call 
 peasantry, and which degrading appellation the mis- 
 creant spawn of the Funds have, of late yean, 
 applied to the whole mass of the most useful of the 
 people in England, those who do the work and fight 
 the battles. And, as to the men, who would naturally form 
 ymir acquaintances, they, I know from experience, 
 fure as kind, frank, and sensible men as are, on the 
 general run, to be found in England, even with the
 
 200 Manners, Customs, AND [Part II. 
 
 power of selection. They are all well-informed; 
 modest without shyness ; always free to communicate 
 what they know, and never ashamed to acknowledg;e 
 that they have yet to learn. You never hear them 
 boast of their possessions, and aou never hear them 
 compiainhtg of their wants. Tliey have all been 
 readers from their youth up ; and there are few subjects 
 upon which they cannot converse with you, whether of 
 a political or scientific nature. At any rate, they 
 always hear with patience. I do not know that I ever 
 heard a native American interrupt another man while 
 he was speaking-. Their sedateness and coolness, the 
 deliberate manner in -which they say and do every 
 thing, and the slowness and reserve with which they 
 express iheir assent ; these are very wrongly estimated, 
 •when they are taken for marks of a vant of feeling. 
 It must be a tale of woe indeed, that will bring a tea 
 from an American's eye ; but any trumped up story will 
 send his hand to his pocket, as the ambassadors from 
 the beggars of France, Italy and Germany can fully 
 testify. 
 
 357. However, you will not, for a long while, know 
 what to do for want of the quick rcspciises of the 
 English tongue, and the decided tone of the English 
 expression. The loud voice ; the hard squeeze by the 
 hand ; the instant assent or dissent ; the clamorous joy ; 
 the bitter wailing ; the ardent friendship; the deadly 
 enmity ; the love that makes people kill themselves ; the 
 hatred that makes them kill others. All these belong 
 to the characters of Englishmen, in whose minds and 
 hearts every feeling exists in the extreme. To decide 
 the question, which character is, upon the whole, 
 best, the American or the English, we nuist appeal to 
 some third party. Hut, it is no matter : we cannot 
 change our natures. For my part, who can, in nothing, 
 think or act by halves, I must belie my very nature, if 
 I said that I did not like the character of my o-wm 
 countrymen best. We all like our own parents and 
 children better than other people's parents and chil- 
 dren ; not because they are belter, but because they 
 areo nrs ; because they belong to us and we to them, 
 and because we must resemble each other. There are
 
 ap. XL] Charactek op the People. 201 
 
 some Americans that I like full as well as I do any 
 man in England ; but, if, nation against nation, 1 put 
 the question home to my heart, it instantly decides in 
 favour of my countr;ymen. 
 
 358. You must not be offended if you find people 
 here take but little interest in the concerns of England. 
 
 Why should they 1 Bolton F r cannot hire 
 
 spies to entrap them. As matter of curiosity, they 
 may contemplate such works as those of Fletcher ; 
 hut, they cannot feel much upon the subject ; and they 
 are not insincere enough to express much. 
 
 359. There is one thing in the Americans, which 
 though its proper place was further back, I have re- 
 sented, or rather kept back, to the last moment. Jt 
 has presented itself several times ; but I have turned 
 from the thought, as men do from thinking of any mor- 
 tal disease that is at work in their frame. It is not 
 covetousness ; it is not niggardliness ; it is not insin- 
 cerity ; it is not enviousness ; it is not cowardice, above 
 all things: it is DRINKING. Aye, and that too, 
 amongst but too many men, who, one would think, 
 would loath it. You can go into hardly any man's 
 house, without being asked to drink wine, or spirits, 
 even in the morning. They are quick at meals, are 
 little eaters, seem to care little about what they eat 
 and never talk about it. This, which arises out of the 
 universal abundance of good and even fine eatables, is 
 very amiable. You are here disgusted with none of those 
 eaters by rep^ttation that are found, especially amongst 
 the Parsons, in Englatid : fellows that unbutton at it. 
 Nor do the Americans sit and tope much after dinner, 
 and talk on till they get into nonsense and smut, which 
 last is a sure mark of a silly and, pretty generally, 
 even of a base mind. But, they tipple ; and the in- 
 fernal spirits they tipple too ! The scenes that I wit- 
 nessed at Harrisburgh I shall never forget. I almost 
 wished (God forgive me!) that there were Borough- 
 mongers here to tax these drinkers : they would soon 
 reduce them to a moderate dose. Any nation that feels 
 itself uneasy with its fulness of good things, has only 
 to resort to an application of Boroughmongers. These 
 are by no means nice feeders or of contracted throat ; 
 
 K 5
 
 SMI Mankers, Customs, and [Part II. 
 
 they ^W suck down any thing from the poor man's po 
 of beer to the rich man's lands and tenements. 
 
 360. The Americans preserve their gra>nty and qui- 
 etness and good-humour even in their drink ; and so 
 much the worse. It were far better for them to be as 
 noisy and quarrelsome as the English drunkards ; for 
 then the odiousness of the vice would be more visible, 
 and the vice itself might become less frequent. Few 
 vices want an apology, and drinking has not only its 
 apologies but its praises ; for, besides the appellation 
 of " generous xoine," and the numerous songs, some in 
 very elegant and witty language, from the pens of 
 debauched men of talents, drinking is said to be neces- 
 sary, in certain cases at least, to raise the spirits, and 
 to keep out cold- Never was any thing more iaise. 
 Whatever intoxicates must enfeeble in the end, and 
 •whatever enfeebles must chill. It is very well known, 
 in the Northern coimtries, that, if the cold be such as 
 to produce danger oi frost-biting, you must take care 
 7wt to drink strong liquors. 
 
 361. To see this beastly vice in young men is shock- 
 ing. At one of the taverns at Harrisburgh there were 
 several as fine young men as I ever saw. Well dressed, 
 well educated, polite, and every thing but sober. 
 What a squaUd, drooping, sickly set they looked in 
 the morning ! 
 
 362. Even little boys at, or under, twelve years of 
 age, go into stores, and tip off their drams ! I never 
 struck a child, in anger, in my life, that I recollect ; 
 but, if I were so unfortunate as to have a son to do 
 this, he having had an example to the contrary in me, 
 1 would, if all other means of reclaiming him failed, 
 whip him like a dog, or, M'hich would be better, make 
 him an out-cast from my family. 
 
 363. However, I must not be understood as meanina. 
 &at this tippling is universal amongst gentlemen ; wifl» 
 God be thanked, the women of any figure in life do by 
 HO means give into the practice ; but, abhor it as much 
 as well-bred women in England, who, ip general, no- 
 more think of drinking strong liquors, than they do of 
 drinking poison. 
 
 364. I shall be told, that men in the hcrtmt field.
 
 CAap. XII.] RcBAL Sports^ 209 
 
 372. Nor have even the Pi/thaffoream a much bet- 
 ter balterj against us. Sir Richard Phillips, who 
 once rang a peal in my ears against shooting and hunt- 
 ing, does, indeed, e„t neilher^esA.^'sA, nor fowl. His 
 abstinence surpasses that oi a Carmehte, while his 
 bulk would not disgrace a Benedictine Monk, or a 
 Protestant Dean. But, he forgets, that his shoes and 
 breeches and gloves are made oi" the skins of animals : 
 he forgets that he writes (and very eloquently too) with 
 what has been cruelly taken from a fowl ; and that, 
 in order to cover the books which he has had made and 
 sold, hundreds of flocks and scores of droves must have 
 perished : nay, that, to get him his beaver-hat, a beaver 
 must have been hunted and killed, and, in the doing of 
 which, many beavers may have been wounded and 
 left to pine away the rest of their lives ; and, perhaps 
 many little orphan beavers, Icilt to lament the murder 
 of their parents. Ben Ley was the only real and sin- 
 cere Pythagorean of modem times, that I ever heard 
 of. He protested, not only against eating the flesh of 
 animals, but also against robbing their backs ; and, 
 therefore, his dress consisted wholly of ^a.r. But, even 
 he, like Sir Richard Phillips, eat milk, butter, cheese, 
 and eggs ; though this was cruelly robbing the hens, 
 cows, and calves ; and, indeed causing the murder of 
 the calves. In addition, poor little Ben forgot the 
 materials of book-binding ; and, it was well he did ; for 
 else, his Bible would have gone into the fire ! 
 
 373. Taking it for granted, then, that sportsmen 
 are as good as other folks on the score of humanity, 
 the sports of the field, like every thing else done in the 
 fields, tend to produce, or preserve health. I prefer 
 them to all other pastime, because they produce early 
 rising ; because they have no tendency to lead young 
 men into vicious habits. It is where men congregate 
 that the vices haunt A hunger or a shooter may also 
 be a gambler and a drinker ; but, he is less likely to 
 be fond of the two latter, if he be fond of the former. 
 Boys will take to something in the way of pastime ; 
 and it is better that they take to that which is innocent^ 
 healthy, and manly, than that which is vicious, un- 
 Iiealtby, and effenunate. Besides^ the sceae& of rural
 
 2o8 g RrRAL Sports. [Part II. 
 
 sport are necessarily at a distance from cities and 
 towns. This is another great consideration ; for though 
 great talents are wanted to be employed in the hives of 
 men, they are very rarely acquired in these hives : the 
 surrounding objects are too numerous, too near the 
 eye, too frequently under it, and too artificial. 
 
 374. For these reasons 1 have always encouraged 
 my sons to pnrsue these sports. They have, until the 
 age of 14 or 15, spent their time, by day, chiefly 
 amongst horses and dogs, and in the fields and farm- 
 yard ; and their candlelight has been spent chiefly in 
 reading books about hunting and shooting anJ about 
 dogs and horses. I have supplied them plentifully 
 •with books and prints relating to these matters. They 
 have draxcn horses, dogs, and game themselves. These 
 things, in which they took so deep an interest, not only 
 engaged their attention and wholly kept them I'rom all 
 taste for, and even all knowledge of cards and other 
 senseless amusements ; but, they led them to read 
 and xcrite of their oicn accord; and, never in my life 
 have I set them a copy in writing nor attempted to teach 
 them a word of reading. They have learnt to read 
 by looking into books about dogs and game ; and they 
 have learnt to write by imitating my writing, and by 
 writing endless letters to me, when I have been from 
 home, about their dogs and other rural concerns. While 
 the Borough-tyrants had me in Newgate for two years, 
 with a thousand pounds fine, for having expressed my 
 indignation at their flogging of Englishmen, in the heart 
 of England, under a guard of Hanoverian sabres, 1 re- 
 ceived volumes of letters from my children ; and, I have 
 fhem now, from the scrawl of three years, to the neat 
 and beautiful -hand of thirteen. I never told them of 
 any err^s in their letters. All was well. The best 
 evider^ of the utility of their writing, and the strongest 
 encouragement to write again, was a very clear answer 
 from me, in a very precise hand, and upon very nice 
 
 ?aper, which they never failed promptly to receive, 
 "hey have all written to me before they could form a 
 single letter. A little bit of paper, with some ink- 
 marks on it, folded up by themselves, and a wafer 
 stuck in it, used to be sent to me, and it was sure to
 
 Chap, XII.] Rural Sports. 20d 
 
 bring the writer a very, very kind answer. Tlius have 
 they gone on. So far from being a trouble to me, they 
 have been all pleasure and advantage. For many 
 years they have been so many secretaries. I have 
 dictated scores of registers to them, which have gone 
 to the press without my ever looking at them. I dictated 
 registers to them at the age of thirteen, and even of 
 tu-elve. They have, as to trust-v:oi'thiness, been groAvn 
 persons, at eleven or twelve. I could leave my hoii.se 
 and affairs, the paying of men, or the going from home 
 on business, to them at an age when boys in England, 
 in general, >vant servants to watch them to see that 
 they do not kill chickens, torment kittens, or set the 
 buildings on fire. 
 
 375. Here is a good deal of boasting; but, it will 
 not be denied, that 1 have done a great deal in a short 
 public lite, and I see no harm in telling my readers of 
 any of tlie means, that 1 have employed ; especially as 
 I know of few greater misfortunes than that of breeding 
 up things to be school-bogs all their lives. It is not, 
 that 1 have so many wonders of the world : it is that 
 I have pursued a rational plan of education, and one 
 that any man may pursue, if he will, with similar 
 effects. I remember, too, that I myself had had a 
 sportsman-education. 1 ran after the hare-hounds at 
 the age o( nine or ten. I have many and man>' a day 
 left the rooks to dig up tlie wheat and peas, while I 
 followed the hounds ; and have returned home at dark- 
 night, Mith mv legs full of thorns and my belly empty 
 to go supperless to bed, and to congratulate myself if 
 I escaped a flogging. 1 Mas sure of these consequences ; 
 but that had not the smallest effect in restraining me. 
 All the lectures, all the threats, vanished from my mind 
 in a moment upon hearing the first cry of the hounds, 
 at which my heart used to be ready to bound out of my 
 body. I remembered a\\ this. I traced to this taste my 
 contempt for card-play irig and for all childish and 
 effeminate amusements. And, therefore, I resolved to 
 leave the same course freely open to my sons. This 
 is my plan of education : others may follow what plau 
 they please. 
 
 370. This Chapter will be a head without a body j
 
 SIO Rural Sforts. [Part II. 
 
 for, it will not require much time to give an account of 
 the rural sports of America. The general taste of the 
 country is to kill the things in order to have them to eaty 
 which latter forms no part of the sportsman's objects. 
 
 377. There cannot be said to be any thing here, 
 which, we, in England, call hunting. The deer are 
 hunted by dogs, indeed, but the hunters do not follow. 
 They are posted at their several stations to shoot the 
 deer as he passes. This is only one remove from the 
 Indian hunting. I never saw, that 1 know of, any man 
 that had seen a pack of hounds in America, except 
 those kept by old John Brown, in Bucks County, 
 Pennsylvania, who was the only hunting Quaker that 
 I ever heard of, and who was grandfather of the famous 
 General Brown. In short, there is none of what we 
 call hunting ; or, so little, that no man can expect to 
 aneet with it. 
 
 378. No coursing. I never saw a greyhound her?. 
 Indeed, there are no hares, that have the same manners 
 that ours have, or any thing like their fleetness. Th^ 
 woods, too, or some sort of cover, except in the singu- 
 lar instance of the plains in this island, are too near 
 at hand. 
 
 379. But, of shooting the variety is endless. Phea- 
 sants, partridges, wood-cocks, snipes, grouse, wild- 
 ducks of many sorts, teal, plover, rabbits. 
 
 380. There is a disagreement laetween the North and 
 the South as to the naming of the two former. North 
 of New Jersey, the pheasants are called partridges, 
 and the partridges are called quails. To the South of 
 New Jersey, they are called by what I think are their 
 proper names, taking the English names of those birds 
 to be proper. For, pheasants do not remain in coveys; 
 but, mix, like common fowls. The intercourse between 
 the males and females is promiscuous, and not by pairs, 
 as in the case of partridges. And these are the man- 
 ners of the American pheasants, which are found by 
 enes, twos, and so on, and never in families^ except 
 when young, when, like chickens, they keep with the 
 old hen. The American partridges are not quails; 
 because quails are gregarious. They keep in flocks, 
 Uke r<toks called crows in America), or like larh^ or
 
 Chap. XII] RtrRAL Sports. «|| 
 
 atarlings; of which the reader will remember a remark- 
 able instance in the history of the migration of those 
 grumbling vagabonds, the Jews, soon after their march 
 from HoREB, when the quails came and settled upon 
 each other's backs to a height of two cubits, and co- . 
 vered a superficial space of two days' journey in dia- 
 meter. It is a well known fact, that quails /?oc^ ; it 
 is also well known, that partridges do not, but that they 
 keep in distinct families, which we call coveys from 
 the French couvte, which means the eggs or brood 
 which the hen covers at one time. The American par- 
 tridges live in coveys. The cock and his pair in the 
 spring. They have their brood by sitting alternately 
 on the eggs, just as the English partridges do ; the 
 young ones, if none are killed, or die, remain with the 
 old ones till spring ; the covey always live within a 
 small distance of the same spot ; if frightened into a 
 state of separation, they call to each other and re-assem- 
 ble ; they roost altogether in a round ring, as close as 
 they can sit, the tails inward and the heads outward; 
 and are in short, in all their manners, precisely the 
 same as the English partridge, with this exception, 
 that they will sometimes alight on a rail or a bough, 
 and that, when the hen sits, the cock, perched at a 
 little distance, makes a sort of periodical whistle, in a 
 monotonous, but very soft and sweet tone. 
 
 381. The size of the pheasant is about the half of 
 that of the English. The plumage is by no means so 
 beautiful; but, the flesh it far more delicate. The 
 size of the partridge bears about the same proportion. 
 But its plumage is more beautiful than that of the 
 English, and its flesh is more delicate. Both are de- 
 lightful, though rather difficult, shooting. The phea- 
 sant does not tower, but darts through the trees ; and' 
 the partridge does not rise boldly, out darts away at 
 no great height from the ground. Some years they 
 are more abundant than other years. This is an 
 abundant year. The-e are, perhaps, fifty coveys 
 iirithin half a mile of my house. 
 
 882. The wood-'cocks are, in all respects, like those 
 in England, except that they are only about three- 
 fiiibs of the size. They breed here -, and are in such
 
 S12 RcBAL Sports. • [Part II. 
 
 numbers, that some men kill twenty brace, or more in 
 a day. Their haunts are in marshy places, or woods. 
 The shooting of them lasts from the fourth of July till 
 the hardish frosts come. The last we killed this year 
 was killed on the 21.'«/ of November. So that here are 
 five months of this sport ; and pheasants and partridges 
 are shot from September to April. 
 
 383. The snipes are called English siiipes, which 
 they resemble in all respects, and are found in great 
 abundance in the usual haunts of snipes. 
 
 384. The yronse is precisely like the Scotch grouse. 
 There is only here and there a place where they are 
 ibund. But, they are, in those places, killed in great 
 quantities in the fall of the year. 
 
 385. As to tcild ducks and other water-fowl, which 
 are come at by lying in wait, and killed most frequently 
 swimming, or sitting, they are slaughtered in Avhole 
 flocks. An American counts the cost of powder and 
 shot. If he is deliberate in every thing else, this habit 
 will hardly forsake him in the act of shooting. AVhen 
 the sentimental flesh-eaters hear the report of his gun, 
 they may begin to pull out their white handkerchiefs ; 
 for death follows his pull of the trigger, with, perhaps, 
 even more certainty than it used to follow the lancet of 
 Doctor Rush. 
 
 386. The Ploveb is a fine bird, and is Ibund in great 
 numbers upon the plains, and in the cultivated fields, of 
 this Island, and at a mile from my house. Plovers are 
 very shy and icary ; but they have ingenious enemies to 
 deal with. A wagon, or carriage of some sort, is made 
 use of to approach them; and then they are easily 
 killed. 
 
 387. Rabbits are very Jibundant in some places. 
 They are killed by shooting ; for all here is done with 
 the gun. No reliance is placed upon a dog. 
 
 383. As to game-laws there are none, except those 
 which appoint the times for killing. People go where 
 they like, and, as to wild animals, shoot what they like. 
 There is the Common Law, which forbids trespass, and 
 the Statute Law, I believe, of " malicious trespass," 
 or trespass after naming. And these are more than 
 enough ; for nobody, that I ever hear of, warns people
 
 Chap. XIII] Paupers. 213 
 
 off. So that, as frr as shooting goes, and that is the 
 sport which is the most general favourite, there never 
 M'as a more delighttul country than this Island. The 
 skv is so fair, the soil so dry, the cover so convenient, 
 the game so abundant, and the people, go where you 
 \»ill, so civil, hospitable, and kind. 
 
 CHAP. xiir. 
 
 PAUP£RS. 
 
 389. It is a subject of great exultation in the hireling 
 newspapers of the Borough-villains, that " poverty and 
 
 '■poor-rates \\a.\e found their waif to xlmerica." As to 
 the former it is literally true ; for the poverty that is 
 here has, almost the Avhole of it, come from Europe ; 
 but, the means of keeping the poor arise here upon the 
 spot. 
 
 390. Great sums of money are raised in New York, 
 Philadelphia, Boston, and other great sea-ports, for the 
 maintenance of " the poor ;" and, the Boroughmongers 
 eagerly catch at the published accounts of this concern, 
 and produce them as proofs, that misery is as great in 
 America as it is under their iron rod. I will strip them 
 of this pretext in a few minutes. 
 
 391. Let us take New York, for instance. Is is noto- 
 rious that, whatever may be the number of persons re- 
 lieved by poor rates, the greater part of them are 
 Europeans, who have come hither, at different periods 
 and under circumstances of distress, difierent, of course, 
 in degree. There is, besides, a class of persons here of 
 a description very peculiar ; namely ; the free negroes. 
 Wliatever may have been the motives, which led to their 
 emancipation, it is very certain, that it has saddled the 
 white people with a charge. These negroes are a dis- 
 orderly, improndent set of beings ; and, the paupers,
 
 214 Paupers. [^arfll 
 
 in the counU'y, consist almost wholly of them. Take out 
 the foreigners and ihe negroes, and you will find, that 
 the paupers of New York do not amount to a hundredth 
 part of those of Liverpool, Bristol, Birmingham, or 
 London, population for population. New York is a 
 sea-port, and the only great sea-port of a large district 
 of country. All the disorderly crowd to it. It teems 
 with emigrants ; but, even there, a pauper, who is a 
 white, native American, is a great rarity. 
 
 392. But, do the Borough-villains think, that the word 
 pauper has the same meaning here that it has under 
 their scorpion rod! A pauper under them means a 
 man that is able and willing to w;orA, and who does work 
 like a horse ; and who is so taxed, has so much of his 
 earnings taken from him hy them to pay the interest of 
 their Debt and the pensions of themselves and their 
 wives, children, and dependents, that he is actually 
 starving and fainting at his work. This is what is meant 
 by a pauper in England. But, at New York, a pauper 
 is, generally, a man who is unable, or which is more 
 frequently the case, unwilling to work ; who is become 
 debilitated from a vicious lilie ; or, who, like Borough- 
 mongers and Priests, finds it more pleasant to live upon 
 the labour of others than upon his own labour. A pau- 
 per in England is fed upon bones, garbage, refuse meat, 
 and " substitutes for bread." A pauper here expects, 
 and has, as much flesh, fish and bread and cake as he 
 can devour. How gladly would many a little trades- 
 man, or even . *le farmer, in England, exchange his 
 diet for that of a New York pauper ! 
 
 393. Where there are such paupers as those in Eng- 
 land, there are beggars; because, when they find, that 
 they are nearly starved in the former character, they 
 will try the latter in spite of all the vagrant acts that 
 any hell-born Funding system can engender. And, 
 who ever saw a beggar in America ? "I have !" ex- 
 claims some spy of the Boroughmongers, who hopes to 
 become a Boroughmonger himself And so have I too. 
 I have seen a couple since I have been on this Island ; 
 and of them I will speak presently. But there are 
 diffferent sorts of beggars too as well as of paupers. In 
 SJngland a beggar is n poor erefttufej with hairdly rag«
 
 Chap. XIII] Paupebs. aift 
 
 (mere rags) sufficient to cover its nakedness, so far even 
 as common decency requires. A wretclied mortal, the 
 bare sight of whom would freeze the soul of an American 
 within him. A dejected, broken down thing, that ap- 
 proaches you bare-headed, on one knee, with a trembling 
 Toice, with " pray bestow your charity, for the Lord 
 " Jesus Christ's sake have compassion on a poor soul ;" 
 and if you toss a halfpenny into his ragged hat, he ex- 
 claims in an extasy, " God Almighty bless your honour!" 
 though you, perhaps, be but a shoe-black yourself. An 
 American beggar, dressed very much like other people, 
 walks up to 3 ou as boldly as if his pockets were crammed 
 with money, and, with a half smile, thatseems to say, he 
 doubts of the propriety of his conduct, very civilly asks 
 you, if you can HELP him to a quarter of a dollar. 
 He mostly states the precise sum ; and never sinks below 
 silver. In short, there is no begging, properly so called. 
 There is nothing that resembles English begging even 
 in the most distant degree. 
 
 394. I have now been here twenty months, and 1 have 
 been visited by only tico beggars. The first was an 
 Englishman, and what Avas more to me, a Surrey man 
 too ; a native of Croydon. He asked me if I could help 
 him to a quarter of a dollar ; for, it is surprising how 
 apt scholars they are. " Yes," said I, " if you will help 
 " my men to do some work first." He said he could not 
 do that, for he was in a hurry. I told him, that, if a 
 man, with a dollar a day, and pork for the tenth part of 
 a dollar a pound, could not earn his living, he ought to 
 be hanged ; " however," said I, "as you are the fir^ 
 " Surrey man I ever saw in America besides myself, if 
 " you be not hanged before this day week, and come 
 *' here again, 1 will help you to a quarter of a dollar." 
 He came, and I kept ray word. The second beggar wa« 
 an Italian. This was a personage of " high conside* 
 ration." He was introduced to the side of my writing 
 table. He behaved with a sort of dignified politeness, 
 mixed with somewhat of reserve, as if he thought the 
 person to whom he was addressing himself a very good 
 sort of man, but of rank inferior to himself. We could 
 not understand each other at first; but, we got into 
 Fr^ekj und then we could talk. He baviog laid down
 
 Sl« Paupers. [Part II. 
 
 his hat, and beins; seated, puUefl out a larg;e parcel of 
 papers, amongst which was a certificate from the Secre- 
 tartj of State of His Majestij the King of- Sardinia, 
 duly signed and countersigned, and sealed with a seal 
 having the armorial bearings of that sovereign. Along 
 'with this respectable ])aper was an English translation 
 of it, done at New York, and authenticated by the Mayor 
 and a Notary Public, with all due formality. All the 
 time these papers were opening, I was wondering what 
 this gentleman could be. I read, and stared, and read 
 again. I was struck not less by the novelty than the 
 audacity of the thing. " So then," said I, breaking 
 silence, " your sovereign, after taxing you to your ruin, 
 " has been graciously pleased to give you credentials 
 *' to show, that he autkorizes you to beg in America; 
 '' and, not only for yourself but for others; so that you 
 *' are an accredited ambassador from the beggars in 
 *^ Sardinia!" He found he was got into %crony hands: 
 and endeavoured to put an end to the negociation at 
 once, by observing, that I was not forced to give, and 
 that my simple negative was enough. *' I beg your 
 ♦' pardon. Sir," said I, " yo« have submitted your case 
 " to me ; you have made an appeal to me ; your state- 
 " ment contains reasons for my giving ; and that gives 
 '•' me a right to shew, if I can, why I ought not to give."' 
 He then, in order to prevent all reasoning, opened his 
 Subscription, or Begging-book, and said : " you see, 
 ♦' Sir, others give !" " Now," said I, " You reason, but 
 " your reasoning is defective; for, if you were to shew 
 *' me, that you had robbed all my neighbours without 
 " their resenting it, would it follow that I must let you 
 " rob me too?" " Ah! par bleu" said he, snatchino^ 
 up his credentials, " je vois que vous ites un avare." 
 — Ah ! by Old Nick, I see you are a Miser. — And off 
 he went ; not, however, before I had time to tell him 
 to be sure to give my best respects to the king of Sar- 
 dinia, and to tell His Majesty to keep his beggars at 
 home. 
 
 395. I afterwards found, that cases like this are by 
 no means rare ; and that, in Pennsylvania, in particular, 
 they have accredited beggars from «11 parts of the con- 
 tinent of Europe This may be no unuseful hint for the
 
 Chap. XIII.] pAurERS. 217 
 
 English Koroughmonsfers, who have an undoubted claim 
 to precedence betbre the German and Italian bewars. 
 The Boroughmongers may easily add a legation of 
 mendicity to their Envoyships and Consulships, without 
 any great disgrace to the latter; and, since they can 
 get nothing out of America by bullying and attacking, 
 try what can be gained by canting and begging. The 
 chances are, however, that many of them will, before 
 they die, be beggars in their own proper persons and 
 for their owii use and behoof; and thus give a complete 
 rounding to their career ; plunderers in prosperity, and 
 beggars in adversity. 
 
 396. As to the poor-rates, the real poor-rates, you 
 must look to the countnj. In England the poor-rates 
 equal in amount the rent of the land! Here, I pay, in 
 poor-rates, only serc»doll;irsupona rent of six hundred ! 
 And 1 pa\ my full share. In short, how is it possible, 
 that there should be paupers to any amount, where the 
 common average wages of a labourer are six dollars a 
 week ; that is to say, twentij-seven shiliimjs sterling, And 
 ■where the necessaries of life are, upon an average, of 
 half the price that they are in England ! How can a 
 man be a pauper, where he can earn ten pounds of 
 prime hog-meat a day, six days in every week I I was 
 at a horse-race, Mhere I saw at least five thousand men, 
 and not one man in shabby clothes. 
 
 397. But, some f/o back after they come from Eng- 
 land ; and the Consul at New York has thousands of 
 applications from men who ivant to f/o to Canada : and 
 little bands of them go off to that^/ie country very often. 
 These are said to be disappointed people. Yes, they 
 expected the people at New York to come out in boats, 
 I suppose, carry them on shore, and give up their dinners 
 and beds to them! If they will ivork, they will soon 
 find beds and dinners : if they will not, they ought to 
 have none. "What, did they expect to find here the same 
 faces and the same posts and trees that they left behind 
 them ! Such foolish people are not worth notice. The 
 lazy, whether male or female, all hate a government, 
 under which every one enjoys his earnings, and no more. 
 Low, poor and miserable as theymaybe, their pr/ncip/e 
 is precisely the same as that of Boroughmongers, and
 
 218. Paupers, [Part 11. 
 
 Priests : namely, to live icithouf. labour on the earnings 
 of others. The desire to live thus is almost universal ; 
 but with sluggards, thieves, Boroughraongers, and 
 Priests, it is a princi/jlc of action. Ask a Priest why 
 he is a Priest \ He will say (for he has vowed it on the 
 Altar !) that he believes himself called by the Holy 
 Ghost to take on him the care of souls. But, put the 
 thing close to him ; push him hard ; and you v.ill find it 
 was the benefice, the money and the tithes, that called 
 him. Ask him what he wanted them for. That he 
 might live, and live, too, ivithout icork. Oh ! this work ! 
 It is an old saying, that, if the Devil find a fellow idle, 
 he is sure to set him to work ; a saying the truth of 
 which the Priests seem to have done their utmost to 
 establish. 
 
 398. Of the goers back was a Mr. Oxslow Wake- 
 ford, Avho was a coach-maker, some years, in Phila- 
 delphia, and Avho, having, from nothing hardly to begin 
 with, made a comfortable fortune, icent bach about the 
 time that I returned home. 1 met him, by accident, at 
 Goodwood, in Sussex, in 1814. We talked about 
 America. Said he, " I have often thought of the foolish 
 *' way, in Avhich my good friend. North, and I used to 
 " talk about the happy state of England. The money 
 " that I have paid in taxes here, would have kept me 
 " like a gentleman there. Why," added he, " if a la- 
 " bouring man here were seen having in his possession, 
 " the fowls and other things that labourers in Phila- 
 " delphia carry home from market, he woidd be stopped 
 " in the street, and taken itp on^ suspicion of being a 
 " thief I upon the supposition of its he'wg impossible that 
 " he could have come honestly by them." I told this 
 story after 1 got home ; and we read in the newspapers, 
 not long afterwards, that a Scotch Porter, in London, 
 who had had a little tub of butter sent him up from his 
 relations, and who was, in the evening, carrying it from 
 the vessel to his home, had actually been seized by the 
 Police, lodged in prison all night, brought before the 
 magistrate the next clay, and not released until he had 
 produced witnesses to prove that he had not stolen a 
 thing, which was thought far too valuable for such a 
 man to come at by honest means! What a state of
 
 Chap. XIV.] Government, Laws, &c. 219 
 
 things must that be 1 What ! A man in England talieu 
 up as a thietand crammed into prison, merely because 
 he was in possession of 20 pounds of butter ! 
 
 399. ftlr. Wakeford is, I dare say, alive. He is a 
 very worthy man. He lives at Chichester. I appeal 
 to him for the truth of the anecdote relating to him. As 
 to the bxitter story, I cannot name the precise, date; but, 
 I seriously declare the fact to have been as I have re- 
 lated it. I told Mr. Wakeford, who is a very quiet 
 man, that, in order to make his lot in England as good 
 as it was in America, he must help us to destroy the 
 Boroughmongers. He left America, he told me, prin- 
 cipally in consequence of the loss of his daughter (an 
 only child) at Philadelphia, where she, amongst hun- 
 dreds and hundreds of others, fell before the desolating 
 lancets of 1797, 1798 and 1799. 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 GOVERNMENT, LAWS, AND RELIGION. 
 
 400. Mr. Professor Chri.stian, who ha^ written 
 great piles of Notes on Blackstone's Commentaries, and 
 whose Notes differ from those of the Note-writers on the 
 Pible, in this, that the latter only tend »o add darkness 
 to that M'hich was sufficiently dark before, while the 
 Professor's Notes, in every instance, without a single 
 exception, labour most arduously, and not always with- 
 out success, to rendex that obscure, which was before 
 clear as the sun now is in Long Island, on this most 
 beautiful fifth of December, 1818 : this Professor, who, 
 I. believe, is now a Judge, has, in his Note 12G on Hook I, 
 drawn what he calls " a distinction" between I'olitical 
 Sind CiwVLiberty, which distinction contains as to ideas, 
 manner, and expressions, a complete specimen of what, 
 iu such a case, a Avriter ought to avoid. 
 L 2
 
 220 GovtRNMKNT, Laws, [Part Ih 
 
 401. Leaving definitions of this sort to such con- 
 ceited bunglers as the Professor, I will just give a 
 sketch (for it can be nothing more) of the Government 
 and Laivs of this country. 
 
 402. The country is divided into States. Each of 
 these States has its own separate governnient, consisting 
 of a Governor, Legislative Body, and Judiciary De- 
 partment. But, then there is a General Government ^ 
 which is, in fact, the government of the whole nation ; 
 for, it alone can do any thing with regard to othfir 
 nations. This General Government consists of a Pre- 
 sident, a Senate, a House of Representaiives, all which 
 too-ether are called the Congress. The President is 
 elected for four years, the Seaate for /bur years, and the 
 House of Representatives for two years. 
 
 403. In most of the State-Governments, the election 
 is annual for the House of Representatives. In some 
 the Governor and the Senate are elected for a longer 
 period, not exceeding four years in any case. But, in 
 some, the whole, Governor, Senate, and Representatives, 
 are elected ANNUALLY ; and this last appears now to 
 be the prevailing taste. 
 
 404. The suffrage, or qualification of electors, is 
 very various. In some States every free man ; that is, 
 every man who is not bondman or slave, has a vote. In 
 others, the payment of a tax is required. In others, a 
 man must be worth a hundred pounds. In Virginia a 
 man must be a. freeholder. 
 
 405. This may serve to show how little Mr. Jerry Bbn- 
 THAM, the new Mentor of the Westminster Telemachus, 
 knows about the political part of the American govern- 
 ments. Jerry, whose great, and, indeed, only argument, 
 in support of annual parliaments and universal suffrage, 
 is, that America is so happy under such a system, has, 
 if we were to oion him, furnished our enemies with a 
 complete answer ; for, they have, in order to silence 
 him, only to refer to the facts of his argument of happy 
 experience. By silencing him, however, I do not 
 mean the stopping of his tongue, or pen ; for nothing 
 but mortality will ever do that. This everlasting bab- 
 bler has aimed a sort of stiletto stroke at me ; for what 
 God kuows, except it be to act a consistent pat, by en-
 
 Chap. XrV.] AND Religion. 221 
 
 deavouring to murder the man whom he has so I're- 
 quently robbed, and whose facts and thoughts, though 
 oisguised and disgraced by the robber's quaint phraseo- 
 logy, constitute the better part of his book. Jerry, who 
 was made a Reiormer by Fitt's refusal to give him a 
 coHiract to build a penitentiary, and to viake him prime 
 administrator of penance, that is to say, Beggar-Whipper 
 General, is a very proper person to be toasted by those, 
 who have plotted and conspired against Major Cart- 
 wright. Mr. Brougham praises Jerry : that is enough ! 
 406. In the four Neiv England States, the qualifi- 
 cation was a hundred pounds. But, one of those States, 
 Connecticut, has, to her great honour, recently set au 
 example worthy of the imitation of the other three. A 
 new constitution has, during this year, been formed in 
 that State, according to which all the elections are to be 
 annual: and, as to the suffrage, I will give it in the 
 words of the instrument itself: " Every male Avhite 
 " citizen of the United States, who shall have gained a 
 e" settlement in this state, attained the age of tsventy-one 
 *' years, and resided in the town (that is parish in the 
 " English meaning) in which he may offer himself to be 
 *' admitted to the privilege of being an elector, at least 
 ** six months preceding, and have a freehold estate of 
 ** the yearly value of seven dollars in this State; — OR, 
 " having been enrolled in the militia, shall have per- 
 " formed military duty therein for the term of one year, 
 " next preceding the time he shall offer himself for ad- 
 " mission, or, being liable thereto, shall have been, by 
 " authority of law, altogether excused therefrom ; — OR, 
 " shall have paid a State Tax within the year next pre- 
 ♦' ceding the time he shall present himself for admis- 
 " sion, and shall sustain a good moral character, shall, 
 " on his taking the oath prescribed, be an elector." 
 ^ 407. And then, the proof of bad moral character, 
 ^, is, " a conviction oi bribery, forgery, perjury, duelling, 
 ^^ fraudulent bankruptcy, theft, or other offences, lor 
 *' which an iniamous punishment is inflicted." By 
 forgery is not, of course, contemplated puff-out for- 
 gery ; for that, as an act of resistance of oppression, is 
 ,j^.fully justifiable : it is not only not an immoral, but it 
 ^ is a meritorious act. The forgery here raeaiit is for-
 
 222 GovERN'MEXT, Laws, [Part H. 
 
 gery committed against honest men, who, when they 
 *^ promise to pay," mean to pay, and do pay when 
 called upon. " Briberij" is very properly set at the 
 head of the disqualifications; but, what a nest of vil- 
 lains it would exclude in England ! White men are 
 mentioned, but, another clause admits all the Blacks- 
 now free, though it shuts out future comers of that co- 
 lour, or of the yellow hue ; which is perfectly just ; for, 
 Connecticut is not to be the receptacle of those, whom 
 other States may choose to release from slavery, seeing 
 that she has now no slaves of her own. 
 
 408. Thus, then, this new Constitution ; a constitu- 
 tion formed by the steadiest comm\mity in the Avhole' 
 world ; a constitution dictated by the most ample expe- 
 rience, gives to the people, as to the three branches of 
 the government (the Governor, Senate, and RepresentU" 
 lives) precisely what we reformers in England ask as- 
 to only one branch out of the three. Whoever has a 
 freehold worth a guinea and a half a year, though he 
 pay no tax, and though he be not enrolled in the mi- 
 litia, has a vote. Whoever pays a tax, though he be 
 not enrolled in the militia, and have np freehold, has a 
 vote. W^hoever is enrolled in the militia, though he 
 have no freehold and pay no tax, has a vote. So that 
 nothing but be2;gars, paupers, and criminals can ea- 
 sily be excluded ; and, you will observe, if you please. 
 Messieurs Boroughmongers, that the State taxes are all 
 direct, and so contemptible in amount, as not to be, all 
 taken together, enough to satisfy the maw of a single 
 sinecure place-man in England; and that the Iblectors 
 choose, and annually too. King, Lords, and Commons. 
 Now, mind, this change has been deliberately made by 
 the most deliberate people that ever lived on the earth. 
 New England is called, and trnly, " the Land of 
 " Steady Habits;" but, a Connecticut man is said to' 
 be a " f'ull-blnoded Yankey," and Yankey means New 
 Englander. So that, here are ihe steadiest of the steady 
 adopting, after all their usual deliberation and precau- 
 tion, in a time of profound tranquillity, and without any 
 party spirit or delusion, the plan of us " wild and 
 " mad" Reformers of Old England. Please God, I
 
 Chap. XIV.] AXD Religion. 223 
 
 will, before I go home, perfonn a pilgrimage into this 
 State ! 
 
 409. In Virginia, and the States where negro sla- 
 very exists, the slaves are reckoned amongst the popula- 
 tion in apportioning the seats in the General Congress. 
 So that, the slaves do not vote ; but, their oivners have 
 votes for them. This is what Davis Giddy, Wilber- 
 force, and the spawn of the Gi'een Room, call virtual 
 representation. Aiid this, to be sure, is what Sir 
 Fraxcis Burdett, in his speech at the Reading Din- 
 ner, meant by universal INT Jil RESTS ! From universal 
 suffrage, he CRme do\sn to general suffrage: this was 
 only noiiscnsc ; but, iwtocrsa/ INTERESTS is down- 
 right borough-mongering. Well may he despair of 
 doing Sinygood in the House of Commons ! " Universal 
 interests" is the Virginian plan ; and /« that state of 
 things, by no means unwise or unjust ; for, it is easier 
 to talk about freeing black slaves, then it is to do it. 
 The planters in the Southern States are not to blame 
 for having slaves, until some man will show how they 
 are to get rid of them. No one has yet discovered the 
 means. Virtual representation, or, in other words, 
 Universal interests, is as good a thing as any one can 
 devise for those States ; and, if Sir Francis will but 
 boldly declare, that the people of England must ne- 
 cessarily remain slaves, his joining of Davis Giddy 
 and Canning, will be very consistent. Let him black 
 the skins of the people of England, and honestly call 
 a part of them his property, and then he will not 
 add the meanest to the most dastardly apostacy. 
 
 410. The right of suffrage in America is, however, 
 upon the whole, sufficient to guard the people against any 
 general and long-existing abuse of power ; for, let it be 
 borne in mind, that here the people elect all the persons, 
 who are to exercise power ; while, even if our Reform 
 were obtained, there would still be tivo branches out of 
 the three, over whom the people would have no direct 
 controul. Besides, in England, Ireland, and Scotland, 
 there is an established Church ; a richly endowed and 
 powerful hierarchy ; and this, which is really a. fourth 
 oranch of the governmeut, has nothing to resemble it 
 in America. So that, in this country, the whole of the
 
 224 Government, Laws, [Part !!(>, 
 
 Government maj be truly said to be in the hands oi* 
 the people. The people are, in reality as well as in i 
 name, represented. 
 
 411. The consequences of this are, 1st, that, if those 
 ■who are chosen do not behave well, they are not cho- 
 sen a second time; 2nd, that there are no sinecure 
 placemen and place ivomcn, grnntecs, pensioners tcitii- 
 out services, and big placemen M'ho swallow the earn- 
 ings of two or three thousand men each ; 3rd, that there 
 is no military stafl' to devour more than the whole of a, 
 government ought to corst ; 4th, that there are no proud 
 and insolent grasping Boroughmongers, who make the 
 people toil and sweat to keep them and their iamilies 
 in luxury; 5th, that seats in the Congress are not like 
 stalls in Smithfield, bought and sold, or hired out; 
 6th, that the Members of Congress do not sell their 
 votes at so much a vote ; 7th, that there is no waste 
 of the public money, and no expenses occasioned by 
 the bribing of electors, or by the hiring of Spies and 
 informers ; 8th, that there are no shootings of the peo- 
 ple, and no legal murders committed, in order to de- 
 fend the government against the just vengeance of an 
 oppressed and insulted nation. But, all is harmony, 
 peace and prosperity. Every man is zealous in de- 
 fence of the laAvs, because every man knows that he is 
 governed by laws, to which he has really and truly 
 given his assent. 
 
 412. As to the nature of the laws, the Common Law 
 of England is the Common Law of America. These 
 States were formerly Colonics of England. Our Bo- 
 roughmongers wished to tax them uitlwut their own 
 coment. But, the Colonies, standing upon the ancient 
 LaM's of England, which say that novtan shall he taxed 
 rcithout his own consent, resisted the Boroughmongers 
 of that day ; overcame them in war ; cast off all de- 
 pendence, and became free and independent States. 
 But, the great man, who conducted that Revolution, 
 as well as the people in general, were too wise to cast 
 off the excellent laws of their forefathers. They, there- 
 fore, declared, that the Common Law of England 
 should remain, being subject to such modifications as 
 might be necessary in the new circumstances in M-hich
 
 Chap. XIV.] AND Religion. 225 
 
 the people were placed. The Common Law means, 
 the ancient and ordinary usages and custotns of the 
 land with regard to the means of protecting property 
 and persons and of punishing crimes. This law is no 
 written or printed thing. Jt is more ancient than 
 books. It had its origin in the hearts of our forefa- 
 thers, and it has Hverl in the hearts of their sons, from 
 generation to generation. Hence it is emphatically 
 called the law of the land. Juries, Judges, Courts of 
 Justice, Sheriffs, Constables, Head-boroughs, Hey- 
 wards, Justices of the Peace, and all their ninnerous 
 and useful powers and authorities, make part of this 
 Laiv of the Land. The Boroughmongers would fain 
 persuade us, that it is they who have given us this 
 Law, out of pure generosity. But, we should bear in 
 mind, that this Law is more ancient, and far more an- 
 cient, than the titles of even the most ancient of their 
 famihes. And, accordingly, when the present Royal 
 Family were placed upon the throne, there Avas a so- 
 lemn declaration by the Parliament in these words : 
 " The Laws of England are the Birthright of the 
 " People of England." The Boroughmongers, by 
 giving new powers to Justices of the Peace and Judges, 
 setting aside the trial by Jury in many cases, both of 
 property and person, even before the present horrible 
 acts; and by a thousand other means, have, b}^ Acts 
 of Parliament, greatly despoiled us of the Law of the 
 Land ; but, never have they given us any one good in 
 addition to it. 
 
 413. The Americans have taken special care to pre- 
 vent the like encroachments on their rights : so that, 
 while they have Courts of Justice, Juries, Judges, 
 Sheriffs, and the rest, as we have ; while they have all 
 the good part of the Laws now in force in England, 
 they have none of the had. They have none of that 
 Statute Law of England, or Act of Parliament Laiv, 
 which has robbed us of a great part, and the best part 
 of our " Birthright." 
 
 414. It is, as I said before, not my intention to go 
 much into particulars here ; but, I cannot refrain from 
 noticing, that the People of America, when they come 
 to settle their new governments, took special care to 
 
 L 5
 
 226 Government, Laws, [Part 11. 
 
 draw up specific Constitutions, in -which they forbade 
 any of their future Ituv-makers to allow of any Titles 
 of Nobility, any Privileged Class, any Established 
 Church, or to pass any law to give to any body the 
 power oj imprisoning men otherwise than in due course 
 of Common Law, except in cases of actual invasion or 
 open rebellion. And, though actual invasion took place 
 several times during the late war; though the Capital 
 city was in possession cf our troops, no such law was 
 passed. Such is the effect of that confidence, which a 
 good and just government has in the people whom it 
 governs ! 
 
 415. There is one more particular, as to the Laws" 
 of America, on which, as it is of very great impor- 
 tance, 1 think it right to remark. The uses, which,, 
 have been made of the Laic of Libel \\\ England are 
 •well known. In the first place, the Common Law 
 knows of no such offence as that of criminal libel, for 
 which so many men have been so cruelly punished in 
 England. The crime is an invention of late date. 
 The Common Law punished men for breaches of the 
 peace, but no words, whether written or spoken, can 
 be a breach of the peace. But, then some Borough- 
 monger judges said, that words might tend to produce 
 a breach of the peace ; and that, therefore, it was 
 criminal to use such words. This, though a palpable 
 stretch of law, did, however, by usage, become law 
 so far as to be acted upon in America as well as in 
 England ; and, when i lived in the State of Pennsyl- 
 VANi.A, eighteen years ago, the Chief Justice of that 
 State, finding even this law not sufficiently large, gave 
 it another siretch to make it fit me. "Whether the 
 Legislature- of that State will repair this act of injustice 
 and tyranny remains yet to be seen, 
 
 4lij. The State of Xew Yoke, in which I now live, 
 awakened, probably by the act of tyranny, to which 
 I allude, has taken care, by an Act of " the State, 
 passed in 1805, to put an end to those attacks on the 
 press by charges of constructive libel, or, at least, to 
 make the law such, that no man shall suffer from the 
 preferring of any such charges unjustly. 
 
 417. The principal effect of this twisting of the law
 
 Chap. XIV.] AND Religion-. 227 
 
 was, that, whether the words published were true or false 
 the crime of publishing was the same ; because whether 
 true or false, they tended to a breach of the peace! 
 Nay, there was a Boroughmoiiger Judge in England, 
 who had laid it down as laic, that the truer the words 
 were, the more criminal Avas the libel ; because, said 
 he, a breach of the peace was more likely to be pro- 
 duced by telling triith of a villain, than by telling 
 falsehood of a virtuous man. In point of fact, this 
 was true enough, to be sure ; but what an infamous 
 doctrine ! What a base, what an unjust mind must 
 this man have had ! 
 
 418. The State of New York, ashamed that there 
 should any longer be room for such miserable quib- 
 bling ; ashamed to leave the Liberty of the Press 
 exposed to the changes and chances of a doctrine so 
 hostile to common sense as well as to every principle 
 of freedom, ^lassed an ^1 ct, which makes the truth of 
 any publication a. just if cation of it, provided the pub- 
 lisher can shew, that the publication was made with 
 good motives and justifiable ends; and who can possibly 
 publish tridh without being able to shew good motives 
 and justifable ends ? To expose and censure tyranny 
 profligacy, fraud, hypocrisy, debauchery, drunken- 
 ness : indeed, all sorts of wickedness and folly; and 
 to do this in the words of truth, must tend, cannot fail 
 to tend, to check wickedness and folly, and to strengthen 
 and promote virtue and wisdom ; and these, and these 
 onhji are the uses of the press. I know it has been said, 
 for I have heard it said, that this is going too far ; that it 
 would tend to lay open the private affairs of families. 
 And what then ! Wickedness and folly should meet their 
 due measure of censure, or ridicule, be they found where 
 they may. If the faults of private persons were too 
 trifling to deserve public notice, the mention of them 
 would give the parties no pain, and the publisher 
 would be despised for his tittle-tattle ; that is all. And, 
 if they were of a nature so grave as for the exposure 
 of them to give the parties pain, the exposure would 
 be useful, as a warning to others. 
 
 419. Amongst the persons whom I have heard ex- 
 press a wish, to see the press what they called /ree, and
 
 228 Government, Laws, [Part II. 
 
 at the same time to extend the restraints on it, with 
 regard to persons in their priAate life, beyond the ob- 
 ligation of adherence to truth, I haAe never, that I 
 know of, met with one, who had not some powerful 
 motive of his own for the wish, and Avho did not teel 
 that he had some vulnerable part about himself. The 
 common observation of these persons, is, that public 
 men are fair game. Why jmblic men onl}' ? Is it 
 because ^/le/r v.ickedness and folly affect the public! 
 And, how long has it been, I should be glad to know, 
 since bad example in private life has been thought of 
 no consequence to the public \ The press is called 
 " the guardian of the public morals ;" but, if it is to 
 meddle with none of the vices or follies of individuals 
 in private life, how is it to act as the guardian of the 
 morals of the whole community \ A press perfectly 
 free, reaches these vices, which the law cannot reach 
 without putting too much power into the hands of the 
 magistrate. Extinguish the press, and you must let 
 the magistrate into every private house. The experi- 
 ence of the world suggests this remark ; for, look where 
 you Avill, you will see virtue in all the walks of life 
 hand in hand with freedom of discussion, and vice 
 band in hand with censorships and other laws to cramp 
 the press. England, once so free, so virtuous and so 
 happy, has seen misery and crimes increase and the 
 criminal laws multiply in the exact proportion of the in- 
 crease of the restraints of the press anfl of the increase 
 of the severity in punishing what are called libels. And, 
 if this had not taken place it would have been very won- 
 derful. Men who have the handling of the public money, 
 and who know that the parliament is such as to be silenoed, 
 will be very apt to squander that money ; this squandering 
 causes heavy taxes ; these produce misery amongst the 
 greater number of the people ; this misery produces 
 crimes ; to check these new penal laws are passed. Thus 
 it is in England, where new hanging places, new and 
 enlarged jails, prisons on the water, new modes of 
 transporting, a ncAv species of peace officers, a new 
 species of Justices of the Peace, troops employed 
 regularly in aid of the magistrate, and at last, spies 
 and blood-money bands, all proclaim a real revolution
 
 Chap. XIV.] AND Religiojj. 221> 
 
 in the nature of the government. If the press had con- 
 tinued free, these sad effects of a waste of the public 
 money never could have taken place ; for, the wasters of 
 that money ■would have been so exposed as to be unable 
 to live under the odium which the exposure would have 
 occasioned; and, if the parliament had not checked 
 the waste and punished t!ie wasters, the public indigna- 
 tion would have destroyed the parliament. But, with 
 a muzzled press, the Masters proceeded with the con- 
 sciousness of impunity. Say to any individual man 
 when he is 20 years of age : " You shall do just what 
 " you please Avith all the money of other people that jou 
 " can, by any means, all your life long, get into your 
 " hands, and no one shall ever be permitted to make you 
 " accountable, or even to -write or speak a Avord against 
 " you for any act of fraud, oppression, or waste." 
 Should you expect such an individual to act honestly 
 and wisely ? Yet, this, in ft^ct, is what a Borough- 
 monger Parliament and the new Law of Libel say to 
 every set of Ministers. 
 
 420. Before 1 quit this subject of Libel, let me 
 observe, however, tliat vo juryman, even as the law 
 now stands in England, is in conscience bound to find 
 any man guilty on a charge of criminal libel, unless 
 the evidence prove that the pretended libeller has been 
 actuated by an evil motive, and unless it be sXm proved 
 by evidence, that his words, spoken or written, were 
 scandalous and malicioux. Unless these things be 
 clearly proved by evidence, the juryman, who finds a 
 man gvilfy, is a base, jierjnred villain ; and ought to 
 be punished as such. 
 
 421. The State of Connecticut, in her new Con- 
 stitution, before mentioned, has put this matter of libel 
 on the true footing ; namely ; " In all prosecutions and 
 " indictments for libel the TRUTH way be given in 
 " evidence, and the Jury shall hare the right to determine 
 " the law and the fads." Thus, then, common sense has, 
 at last, got the better ; and TRUTH can, in this State, 
 at least, in no case, be a legal crime. But, indeed, the 
 press has NOW no restraint in America, other than 
 that imposed by TRUTH. Men publish what they 
 please, so long as they do not publish /a/seAoot/«; and, 
 even in such cases, they are generally punished by the
 
 230 Government, Laws, [Part II. 
 
 public contempt. The press is, therefore, taken alto- 
 gether, what the magistrate always ought to be : "a 
 " terror to evil doers, and a reward to those itho do icell." 
 But, it is not the name of PvEPUBLIC that secures 
 these, or any other of the blessings of freedom. As gross 
 acts of tyranny may be committed, and as base cor- 
 ruption practised, under that name as under the name 
 of absolute monarchy. And, it becomes the people of 
 America to guard their minds against ever being, in 
 any case, amused ivith names. It is the fair representa- 
 tion of the people that is the cause of all the good ; and, 
 if this be obtained, I, for ray part, will never quarrel 
 with any body about names. 
 
 422. Taxes and Priests ; for these always lay on 
 heavily together. On the subject of taxes, I have; 
 perhaps, spoken sufficiently clear before ; but, it is a 
 great subject. I will, on these subjects, address my- 
 self more immediately to my old neighbours at Botley, 
 and endeavour to make them understand, what America 
 is as to taxes and priests. 
 
 423 Worried, my old neighbours, as you are by 
 tax-gatherers of all descriptions from the County- 
 Collector, who rides in his coach and four, down to the 
 petty Window-Peeper, the little miserable spy, who is 
 constantly on the look out for you, as if he were a 
 thief-catcher and you were thicACs ; devoured as you are 
 by these vermin, big and little, you will with difficulty 
 form an idea of the state of America in this respect. 
 It is a state of such blessedness, when compared with 
 the state of things in England, that 1 despair of being 
 able to make you fully comprehend what it is. Here 
 a man may make new wind'ows, or shut up old windows, 
 as often as he pleases, without being compelled under 
 a penalty to give notice to some insolent tax-gathering 
 spy. Here he may keep as many horses as he likes, 
 he^ may ride them or drive them at his pleasure, he 
 may sell them or keep them, he may lend them or 
 breed from them ; he may, as far as their nature allows, 
 do the same with regard to his dogs ; he may employ 
 his servants in his house, in his stables, in his garden, 
 or in his fields, just as he pleases; he may, if he be 
 foolish enough, have armorial bearings on his carriage, 
 his watch-seals, on his plate and, it he likes, on his
 
 Chap. XIV.] AND Religiox. 2^1 
 
 very buckets and porridge pots ; he may write his re- 
 ceipts, his bills, his leases, his bonds, and deeds iipoii 
 unstamped paper ; his wiie and daughters may wear 
 French gloves and Lace and French and India silks • 
 he may purchase or sell lands and may sue at law for 
 his rights : and all these, and a hundred other things, 
 without any dread of the interloping and insolent inter- 
 ference of a tax-gatherer or spy of any description. 
 Lastly, when he dies, he can bequeath his money and 
 goods and houses and lands to whomsoever he pleases ; 
 and he can close his eyes without curses in his heart 
 against a rapacious band of placemen, pensioners, 
 grantees, sinecure holders, staff-officers, borough-job- 
 oers, and blood-money spies, who stand ready to take 
 from his friends, his relations, his widow, and his 
 children, a large part of what he leaves, under the 
 name of a tax upon legacies. 
 
 424. But you will ask, "• are there no taxes in 
 "America?" Yes; and taxes, or public contributions 
 of some sort, there must be in every civilized state ; 
 otherwise yovemmcnt could not exist, and without 
 government there could be no security for property or 
 persons. The taxes in America " consist principally 
 of custom duties imposed on goods imported into the 
 coiintrif. During the late war, there were taxes on 
 several things in the country ; but they were taken 
 off at the peace. In the cities and large towns, where 
 paving and lamps and drains and scavengers are 
 necessary, there are, of course, direct contributions 
 to defray the expense of these. There are abo, of 
 course, county rates and road rates. But, as the 
 money thus raised is employed for the immediate 
 benefit of those v,ho pay, and is expended amongst 
 themselves and under their own immediate inspection, 
 it does not partake of the nature of a tax. The taxes 
 or duties, on goods imported, yield a great sum of 
 money ; and, owing to the persons employed in the 
 collection being appointed for their integrity and 
 ability, and not on account of their connection with any 
 set of bribing and corrupt boroughmongers, the whole 
 of the money thus collected is fairly applied * to the 
 public use, arid is amply sufficient for all the purposes
 
 232 GovsRXMENT, Laws, [Part II. 
 
 of government. The army, if it can be so called, 
 costs but a mere trifle. It consists of a few men, who 
 are absolutely necessary to keep forts from crumbling 
 down, and guns from rotting with rust. The navy is 
 an object of care, and its support and increase a cause 
 of considerable expense. Kut the government, reljing 
 on the good sense and valour of a people, who must 
 hate or disregard themselves before they can hate or 
 disregard that which so manifestly promotes their own 
 happiness, has no need to expend much on any species 
 of warlike preparations. The government could hot 
 stand a week, if it were hated by the people ; nor, 
 indeed, ought it to stand an hour, it has the hearts of 
 the people with it, and, therefore, it need expend no- 
 thing in blood'tnoney, or in secret services of any kind. 
 Hence the cheapness of this government ; hence the 
 small amount of the taxes ; hence the ease and happi- 
 ness of the People. 
 
 425. Great as the distance between you and me is, 
 my old neighbours, I very often think of you ; and 
 especially when I buy salt, which our neighbour 
 Warner used to sell us for 19s. a bushel, and which I 
 buy here for 2s. 6d. This salt is made, you know, 
 down somewhere by Hambel. This very salt ; when 
 brought here from England, has all the charges of 
 freight, insurance, wharlJage, storage, to pa}-. It pays 
 besides, one third of its value in duty to the American 
 Government before it be landed here. Then, you will 
 observe, there is the pro/it of the American Salt Mer- 
 chant, and then that ot the shopkeeper who sells me 
 the salt. And, after all this, 1 buy that very Hamp- 
 shire salt for 2s. 6rf. a bushel, English measure. What 
 a government, then, must that of the Boroughnu>ngers 
 be ! The salt is a gift of God. It is thrown on the 
 shore. And yet, these tyrants -will not suffer us to use 
 it, until we have paid them 15*. a bushel for liberty to 
 use it. They will not suffer us to use the salt, which 
 God has sent us, until we have given them 15*. a 
 bushel for them to bestow on themselves, on their 
 families and dependents, in the payment of the interest 
 of the Debt, which they have contracted, and in pay- 
 ing those, whom they hire to shoot at us. Yes ; England
 
 Chap. XIV.] AXD Religion. 233 
 
 is a fine country ; it is a glorious country ; it contains 
 an ingenious, industrious, a brave and warm-hearted 
 people ; but, it is now disgraced and enslaved : it is 
 trodden do^m by these tyrants ; and we must free it. 
 We cannot, and we will not die their slaves. 
 
 420. Salt is not the only one of the English articles 
 that we buy cheaper here than in England. Glass, 
 for instance, we buy for half the price that you buy it. 
 The reason is, that you are compelled to pay a heavy 
 icuv, which is not paid by us lor that same glass. It 
 is the same as to almost every thing that comes from 
 England. You are compelled to pay the Borough- 
 mongers a heavy tax on your candles and soap. You 
 dare not make candles and soap, though you have the 
 fat and the ashes in abundance. If you attempt to do 
 this, you are taken up and imprisoned ; and, if you 
 resist, soldiers are brought to shoot you. Thisis^rec- 
 dom, is it ? Now, we here, make our own candles and 
 soap. Farmers sometimes sell soap and candles ; but 
 they never bvy any. A labouring man, or a mechanic, 
 buys a sheep now and then. Three or four days* 
 work will buy a labourer a sheep to weigh sixty 
 pounds, Mith seven or eight pounds of loose fat. The 
 meat keeps very Avell, in Avinter, for a long time. The 
 wool makes stockings. And the loose fat is made into 
 candles and soap. The year before I left Hampshire, 
 a poor woman at Holly Hill had dipped some rushet 
 in grease to use instead of candles. An Exciseman 
 found it out ; went and ransacked her house ; and told 
 her, that, if the rushes had had another dip, they 
 would have been candles, and she must have gone to 
 jail ! Why, my friends, if such a thing were told here, 
 nobody would believe it. The Americans could not 
 bring their minds to believe, that Englishmen would 
 submit to such atrocious, such degrading tyranny. 
 
 427. I have had living with me an Englishman, 
 who smokes tobacco ; and he tell me, that he can buy 
 as much tobacco here for throe cents: that is, about 
 three English half-pence, as he could buy in England 
 tor three shillings. The leather has 7io tax on it here; 
 so that, though the shoe-maker is paid a high price 
 for htfi labour, the labouring man gets his shoes verr
 
 ^S4 Government, Laws, [Part II. 
 
 cheap. In short, there is no excise here ; no property 
 tax; no assessed taxes. We have no such men here 
 as Chiddel and Billy Tovery to come and take our 
 money from us. No window peepers. No spies to 
 keep a look-out as to our carriages and horses and 
 dogs. Our dogs that came from Botley now run about 
 free from the spying of tax-gatherers. We may wear 
 hair-powder if we like without paying for it, and a boy 
 in our houses may whet our knives without our paying 
 two pounds a year for it. 
 
 428. But, then, we have not the honour of being 
 covered over with the dust, kicked up by the horses 
 and raised by the carriage-wheels of such men as Old 
 George Rose and Old Garnier, each of whom has 
 pocketted more than three hundred thousand pounds of 
 the public, that is to say, the people's money. There 
 are no such men here. Those who receive public mo- 
 ney here, do something for it. They earn it. They 
 are no richer than other people. The Judges here are 
 plain dressed men. They go about with no sort of 
 parade. They are dressed, on the Bench, like other 
 men. The lawyers the same. Here are no black 
 gowns and scarlet gowns and big foolish-looking wigs. 
 Yet, in the whole world, there is not so well-behaved 
 so orderly, so steady a people ; a people so obedient to 
 the laiv. But, it is the law only that they will boiv tq. 
 They will bow to nothing else. And, they bow with 
 reverence to the law, because they know it to be just, 
 and because it is made by men, Avhom they have all 
 had a hand in choosing. 
 
 429. And, then, think of the tithes ! I have talked 
 to several fanners here about the tithes in England, and, 
 they laugh. They sometimes almost make me angry ; 
 for they seem, at last, not to believe what I say, when 
 I tell them, that the English farmer gives, and is com- 
 pelled to give, the Parson a tenth part of his whole 
 crop and of his fruit and milk and eggs and calves and 
 lambs and pigs and wool and honey. They cannot 
 believe this. They treat it as a sort of romance. I 
 sometimes almost wish them to be farmers in England. 
 I said to a neighbour the other day, in half anger : " i 
 '^ wish your farm were at Botley. There is a fellow
 
 Chap. XIV.] AND Religion'. 23S 
 
 " there, who would soon let you know, that your fine 
 " apple-trees do not belong to you. He would have his 
 " nose in your sheep-fold, your calf-pens, your milk- 
 '^ pails, your sow's bed, if not in the sow herself. Your 
 " daughters would have no occasion to hunt out the 
 " hen's nests: he would do that for them." And then 
 I gave them a proof of an English Parson's vigilance 
 by telling them the story of Baker's peeping out the 
 name, marked on the sack, which the old woman was 
 wearing as a petticoat. To another of my neiglibours, 
 who is very proud of the circumstance of his grandfa- 
 ther being an Englishman, as, indeed, most of the Ame- 
 ricans are, who are descended from Englishmen: to this 
 neighbour 1 was telling the story about the poor woman 
 at Holly Hil', who had nearly dipped her rushes once 
 too often. He is a very grave and religious man. He 
 looked very seriously at me, and said, that falsehood 
 vvas falsehood, whether in jest or earnest. But, when 
 1 invited him to come to my house, and told him, that I 
 would show him the acts which the Borough-men had 
 made to put us in jail if we made our own soap and 
 candles-, he was quite astonished. " What!" said he, 
 >' and is Old England really come to this! Is the land 
 " of our forefathers brought to this state of abject sla- 
 " very ! Well, Mr. Cobbett, I conless, that 1 was alwav s 
 *' for King George, during our Revolutionary war ; but, 
 " I believe, all was for the best ; for, if I had had my 
 " wishes, he might have treated us as he now treats; 
 " the people of England." " He!" said I. " It i» 
 " not he; he, poor man, does nothing to the people, 
 *' and never has done any thing to the people. He has 
 " no power more than you have. None of his family 
 " have any. All put together, they have not a thou- 
 " sandth part so much as 1 have ; for I am able, though 
 ." here, to annoy our tyrants, to make them less easy 
 •' than they would be ; but, these tyrants care no more 
 " for the Royal Family than they do for so many posts 
 " or logs of wood." And then I explained to him who 
 and what the Boronghmongers were, and how they op- 
 pressed us and the king too. I told him how they dis- 
 posed of the Church livings, and, in short, explained 
 to him all their arts and all their cruelties. He was
 
 236 Government, Laws, [Part II. 
 
 exceedingly shocked ; but was glad, at any rate to know 
 the truth. 
 
 430. When I was, last winter, in the neighbourhood 
 of Harrisburgh in Pennsylvania, I saw some hap' 
 planters. They grow prodigious quantities of hops. 
 They are obliged to put their hills so wide a part, thit 
 they can have only four hundred hills upon an acre.; 
 and yet they grow three thousand pounds of hops upon 
 an acre, with no mannre and with once ploughing in the 
 year. When I told them about the price of hops in 
 England and about the difficulty of raising them, they 
 were greatly surprised ; but, what was their astonish> 
 ment, when 1 told them about the hop-poles of Cra.l- 
 CRAFT at Curbridge ! The hop is naturally a weed in 
 England as Avell as in America. Two or three vines 
 had come up out of Chalcraft's garden hedge, a few 
 years ago. Chalcraft put poles to them ; and, there 
 might be a pound or two of hops on these poles. Just 
 before the time of gathering, one of the spies called 
 Excisemen called on Chalcraft and asked him why he 
 did not enter his hops. Chalcraft did not understand ; 
 but, answered, he meant to take them in shortly, though 
 he did not think they were yet quite ripe. " Aye," 
 said the Exciseman, " but I mean, when do you mean 
 " to enter them at the excise office?" Chalcraft did not 
 know (not living in a hop-country,) that he had already 
 incurred a penalty for not reporting to the tyrants that 
 he had hops growing in his garden hedge ! He did not 
 know, that he could not gather them and put them by 
 without giving notice, under a penalty of Jifty founds. 
 He did not know, that he could not receive this little 
 gift of God without paying money to the Boroughmongers 
 in the shape of tax ; and, to the Parson in the shape of 
 tithe, or, to give a tenth of the hops to the Parson, and 
 not dare pick a single hop till he had sent notice to the 
 Parson! What he did, upon this occasion, I have for- 
 gotteh ; but, it is Ukely that he let the hops stand and 
 tot, or cut them down and flung them away as weeds. 
 Now, poor^en in England are told to be content with 
 rags and hungry bellies, for that is their lot ; that " it 
 " has pleased Divine Providence to place them in that 
 ** state." But, here h a striking instance of the false
 
 Chap. 5ClV.] AK» REtiflioJ?. aS7 
 
 hood and blasphemy of this Doctrine ; for, Providence 
 had sent Chalcraft the hops, and he had put poles to 
 them. Providence had brought the hops to perfection ; 
 but then came the Boroughmongers and the Parson to 
 take from this poor man this boon of a benevolent 
 Maker. What, did God order a tax with all its vexa- 
 tious regulations, to be imposed upon what he had freely 
 given to this poor man T Did God ordain that, in addi- 
 tion to this tax, a tenth should be yielded to a Parson, 
 who had solemnly vowed at his ordination, that he be- 
 lieved himself called, not by the love of tithes, but by 
 *♦ the Holy Ghost, to take on him the cure ofsoxih," and 
 to " bring stray sheep into the fold of the Lord ?" Did 
 God ordain these things ! Had it pleased God to do 
 thisi' What impunity, what blasphemy, then, to as- 
 cribe to Providence the manifold sufferings occasioned 
 by the Boroughmongers' taxes and Parsons' tithes ! 
 
 431. But, my Botley neighbours, you will exclaim, 
 *♦ No tithes! Why, then, there can be no Churches 
 •♦ and no Parsens ! The people must know nothing of 
 •' God or Devil ; and must all go to hell !" By no means, 
 my friends. Here are plenty of Churches. No less 
 than three Episcopal (or English) Churches ; three 
 Presbyterian Churches; three Lutheran Churches; 
 one or two Quaker Meeting-houses ; and two Metho- 
 dist Places ; all within six miles of the spot where 
 I am sitting. And, these, mind, not poor shabby 
 Churches; but each of them larger and better built 
 and far handsomer than Botley Church, with the 
 Church-yards all kept in the neatest order, with 
 a head-stone to almost every grave. As to the Quaker 
 Meeting-house it would take Botley Church into its 
 belly, if you were first to knock off the steeple. 
 
 432. Oh, no ! Tithes are not necessary to promote 
 religion. When our Parsons, such as Baker, talk about 
 religion, or the church, being in danger ; they mean, 
 that the tithes are in danger. They mean, that they 
 are in danger of being compelled to work for their 
 bread. This is what they mean. You remember, that, 
 at our last meeting at Winchester, they proposed for us 
 to tell the Prince Regent, that we would support the 
 Church. I moved, to leave out the word church, and
 
 238 GovERN'MENT, Laws, [Part 11, 
 
 insert the word tithes ; for, as there were many presb}'- 
 terians and other dissenters present, they could not, 
 •with clear conscieiices, pledge themselves to support 
 the church. This made them furious. It was lifting up 
 the mask ; and the parsons were enraged beyond measure. 
 
 433, Oh, no ! Tithes do not mean religion. Religion 
 means a reverence for God. And, what has this to do 
 with tithes ? Why cannot you reverence God, without 
 l3aker and his wife and children eating up a tenth part 
 of the corn and milk and eggs and lambs and pigs and 
 calves that are produced in Botley parish ? The Par- 
 sons, in this country, are supported by those who choose 
 to employ them. A man belongs to M'hat congregation 
 he pleases. He pays what is required by the rules of 
 the congregation. And, if he think that it is not neces- 
 sary for him to belong to any congregation, he pays 
 nothing at all. And, the consequence is, that all is har- 
 mony and good neighbourhood. Here are not disputes 
 about religion : or, if there be, they make no noise. 
 Here is no ill-will on this account, A man is never 
 asked what religion he is of, or whether he be of any 
 religion at all. It is a matter that nobody interferes in. 
 What need, therefore, is there of an established Church ? 
 What need is there of tithes 1 And, M'hy should not that 
 species of property be taken for public use? That is to 
 say, as far as it has any thing to do with religion I I 
 know very well, that tithes do not operate as many 
 people pretend ; I know that those who complain most 
 about them have the least right to complain ; but, for 
 my present purpose, it is sufficient to shew, that they 
 have nothing to do with religion. . 
 
 434. If, indeed, the Americans were wicked, disor- 
 derly, criminal people, and, of course, a miserable and 
 foolish people : then we might doubt upon the subject : 
 then we might possibly suppose, that their wickedness 
 and misery arose, in some degree, at least, from the 
 want of tithes. But, the contrary is. the fact. They 
 are the most orderly, sensible, and least criminal people 
 in the whole world. A common labouring man has the 
 feelings of a man of honour ; he never tliinks of vio- 
 lating the laws ; he qrawls to nobody ; he will call every 
 pian Sir J but he will call no man masleri ^ When he
 
 chap. XIV.] AND Religion. 239 
 
 utters words of respect towards any one, they do not 
 proceed from fear or hope, but irom civihty and sin- 
 cerity. A native American labourer is never mde to- 
 wards his employer, but he is never cringing. 
 
 435. However, the best proof of the inutility of an 
 established Church is the absence of crimes in this 
 country', compared to the state of England in that re- 
 spect. There have not been three felonies tried in this 
 country since I arrived in it. The Court-house is at 
 two miles from me. An Irishman was tried for forgery 
 in the summer of 1817, and the whole country was alive 
 to go and witness the novelty. I have not heard of a 
 man being hanged in the whole of the United States 
 since my arrival. The Boroughmonger^. in answer to 
 statements like these, say that this is a thinly inhabited 
 country. This very country is more thickly settled 
 than Hampshire. The adjoining country, towards the 
 city of New York is much more thickly settled than 
 Hampshire. New York itself and its immediate en- 
 rirons contain nearly two hundred thousand inhabitants, 
 and after London, is, perhaps, the first commercial and 
 maritime city in the Morld. Thousands of sailors, ship- 
 carpenters, dock-yard people, dray-men, boat-men, 
 crowd its wharfs and quays. Yet, never do we hear of 
 hanging ; scarcely ever of a robbery ; men go to bed 
 with scarcely locking their doors ; and never is there 
 seen in the streets what is called in England, a girl of 
 the iotcn; and, Avhat is still more, never is there seen 
 in those streets a beggar. I wish you, my old neigh- 
 tours, could see this city of Ncav York. Portsmouth 
 and Gosport, taken together, are miserable holes com- 
 pared to it. Plan's imagination can fancy nothing so 
 beautiful as its bay and port, from which two immense 
 rivers sweep up on the sides of the point of land, on 
 which the city is. These rivers are continually covered 
 with vessels of various sizes bringing the produce of the 
 land, while the bay is scarcely less covered with ships 
 going in and out from all parts of the world. The city 
 itself is a scene of opulence and industry ; riches with- 
 out insolence, and labour without grudging. 
 . 436. What Englishman can contemplate this brilliant 
 Bight without feeling some little pride that this city
 
 5i40 GovERNMEi^T, Laws, [Part It. 
 
 bears an English name 1 But, thoughts of more impor- 
 tance ought to fill his mind. He ought to contrast the 
 ease, the happiness, the absence of crime which prevail 
 here with the incessant anxieties, the miseries and mur- 
 derous works in England. In his search after causes he 
 will find them no where but in the government: and, as 
 to an established church, if he find no sound argument 
 to prove it to be an evil ; at the verj least he must con- 
 clude, that it is not a good: and, of course, that property 
 to the amount of five millions a-year is very unjustly as 
 well as unwisely bestowed on its clergy. 
 
 437. Nor, let it be said, that the people here are of 
 a better natural disposition than the people of England 
 are. How can it be ? They are, the far greater part of 
 them, the immediate descendants of Englishmen, Irish- 
 men, and Scotsmen. Nay, in the citi/ of New York it 
 is supposed, that full half of the labour is performed by 
 natives of Ireland, while men of that Island make a 
 great figure in trade, at the bar, and in all the various 
 pursuits of life. They have their Romish Chapels there 
 in great brilliancy ; and they enjoy " Catholic Eman- 
 " cipation" withoutany petitioning or any wrangling. In 
 short, blindfold an Englishman and convey him to New 
 York, unbind his eyes, and he will think himself in an 
 English city. The same sort of streets ; shops pre- 
 cisely the same ; the same beautiful and modest women 
 crowding in and out of them ; the same play-houses ; 
 the same men, same dress, same language : he will miss 
 b}' day only the nobility and the beggars, and by night 
 only the street-walkers and pickpockets. These are to 
 be found only where there is an established clergy, up- 
 held by what is called the state, and which word means, 
 in England, the Boroughmongers. 
 
 438. Away, then, my friends, with all cant about the 
 church, and the church being in danger. If the church, 
 that is to say, the tithes, were completely abolished ; if 
 they, and all the immense property of the church, were 
 taken and applied to public use, there would not be a 
 sermon or a prayer the less. Not only the Bible but 
 the very Prayer-book is in use here as much as in Eng- 
 land, and, I believe, a great deal more. Why give the 
 fire miUiotis a year then, to Parsons and their wives and
 
 Chap. XIV.] AND Religion. 241 
 
 children ! Since the EngUsh, Irish, and Scotch, are so 
 good, so religious, and so moral here without glebes and 
 tithes; why not use these glebes and tithes for other 
 purposes, seeing they are possessions which can legally 
 be disposed of in another manner ? 
 
 439. But, the fact is, that it is the circumstance of 
 the church being established by law that makes it of 
 little use as to real religion, and as to morals, as far as 
 they be connected >vith religion. Because, as we shall 
 presently see, this establishment forces upon the people, 
 parsons whom they cannot respect, and whom indeed, 
 they must despise ; and, it is easy to conceive, that the 
 moral precepts of those, whom we despise on account 
 of their immorality, we shall never much attend to, even 
 supposing the precepts themselves to be good. If a 
 precept be selt^vidently good ; if it be an obvious duty 
 •which the parson inculcates, the inculcation is useless to 
 us, because, whenever it is wanted to guide us, it will 
 occur without the suggestion of any one ; and, if the 
 precept be not solf-evidently good, we shall never 
 receive it as such from the lips of a man, whose cha- 
 racter and life tell us we ought to suspect the truth of 
 every thing he utters. When the matters as to which 
 we are receiving instructions are, in their nature, wholly 
 dissimilar to those as to which we have witnessed the 
 conduct of the teacher, we may reasonably, in listening 
 to the precept, disregard that conduct. Because, Ibr 
 instance, a man, though a very indifferent Christian, 
 may be a most able soldier, seaman, physician, lawyer, 
 or almost any thing else ; and what is more, may be 
 honest and zealous in the discharge of his duty in any of 
 these several capacities. But, when the conduct, which 
 we have observed in the teacher belongs to the same 
 department of liie as the precept which he is delivering, 
 if the one differ from the other we cannot believe the 
 teacher to be sincere, unless he, while he enforces his 
 
 grecept upon us, acknowledge his own misconduct, 
 uppose ma, for instance, to be a great liar, as great a 
 liar, if possible, as Stewart of the Courier, who has 
 . said that I have been " fined 700 dollars for writing 
 " against the American government," though I never 
 was prosecuted in America in all my life. Suppose me 
 M
 
 242 Government, Laws, [Part II. 
 
 to be as great a liar as Stewart, and I were to be 
 told by a parson, whom I knew to be as great a liar as 
 myself, that 1 should certainly go to hell if 1 did not 
 leave off lying. Would his words have any effect upon 
 me 1 No : because I should conclude, that if he thought 
 what he said, he would not be such a liar himself. I 
 should rely upon the parson generally, or I should not. 
 If I did, I should think myself safe until I out-lied hira ; 
 and, if I did not rely on him generally, of what use 
 would he be to me ? 
 
 440. Thus, then, if men be sincere about religion ; if 
 it be Jiot all a mere matter of form, it must always be 
 of the greatest consequence, that the example of the 
 teacher correspond with his teaching. And the most 
 likely way to insure this, is to manage things so that he 
 may, in the first place, be selected by the people, and, 
 in the second place, have no rewards in view other than 
 those Avhich are to be given in consequence of his per- 
 severance in a line of good conduct. 
 
 441 . And thus it is with the clergy in America, who 
 are duly and amply rewarded for their diligence, and 
 very justly respected for the piety, talent, and zeal 
 which they discover ; but, who have no tenure of their 
 places other than that of the will of the congregation. 
 Hence it rarely indeed happens, that there is seen 
 amongst them an impious, an immoral, or a despicable 
 man. Whether the teaching of even these Reverend 
 persons have any very great effect in producing virtue 
 and happiness amongst men, is a question upon which 
 men may, without deservang to be burnt aUve, take the 
 liberty to differ; especially since the world has con- 
 stantly before its eyes a society, who excel in all the 
 rhristian virtues, who practise that simphcity which 
 otiiers teach, who, in the great work of charity, really 
 and truly hide from the left hand that which the right 
 hand doeth ; and who know nothing of Bishop, Priest, 
 Deacon, or Teacher of any description. Yes, since we 
 have the Quakers constantly before our eyes, we may, 
 without deserving to be burnt alive, question the utility 
 of paying any parsons or religious teachers at all. But, 
 the worst of it is, we are apt to confound things ; as we 
 have, by a figure of speech, got to call a building a
 
 Ghap. XIV.] AND Religion. 243 
 
 church, when a church really means a body of people ; 
 so we are apt to look xipon the priest as being religious, 
 and especially when we call him the reverend; and, it 
 often sadly occurs that no two things can be wider from 
 each other in this quality. Some writer has said, that 
 he would willingly leave to the clergy every thing above 
 the tops of the chimneys ; which, perhaps, was making 
 their possessions rather too ethereal ; but, since our law 
 calls them " spiritual -persons ;" since they profess, that 
 " their kingdom is not of this world," and, since those of 
 our church have solemnly declared, that they believed 
 themselves to be called to the ministry " by the Holy 
 " Ghost:'' it is, I think, a little out of character for 
 them to come poking and grunting and grumbling about 
 after our eggs, potatoes, and sucking pigs. 
 
 442. However, upon the general question of the 
 utility or non-utility of paid religious teachers, let men 
 decide for themselves; but if teachers be to be paid, it 
 seems a clear point, in my mind, that they should be 
 paid upon the American plan : and this, 1 tliink, must 
 be obvious to every one, who is able to take a view of 
 the English Clergy. They are appointed by the abso- 
 lute will of the Boroughmongers. They care nothing 
 for the good will of their congregation or parish. It is 
 as good to them to be hated by their parishioners as to 
 be loved by them. They very frequently never even 
 see their parish more than once in four or five years. 
 They solemnly declare at the altar, that they believe 
 themselves called by the Holy Ghost to take on them 
 the cure of souls ; they get possession of a living ; and 
 leave the cure of souls to some curate, to whom they give 
 a tenth part, perhaps, of the income. Many of them 
 have tico livings, at thirty miles distance from each 
 other. They live at neither very irequently ; and, when 
 they do, they only add to the annoyance which their 
 curate gives. 
 
 443. As to their general character and conduct ; in 
 what public transaction of pre-eminent scandal have 
 they not taken a part ? AVho were found most intimate 
 with Mrs. Clarke, and most busy in her commission 
 dealing affairs'? Clergymen of the Church of England. 
 This i« notorious.- Miss Tocker tells of the tivo livinqs 
 
 M2
 
 244 GovfiRNMBNT, Laws, fPart II. 
 
 given to Parsov Gurney for his electioneering works 
 in Cornwall. And, indeed, all over the country, they 
 have been and are the prime agents of the Borough- 
 mongers. Recently they have been the tools of Sid- 
 mouth for gagging the press in the country parts of the 
 kingdom. Powis and Guillim were the prosecutors of 
 Messrs. Pilhng and Melor ; and for which if they be not 
 made to answer, the kingdom ought to be destroyed. 
 They are the leading men at Pitt Clubs all over the 
 country ; they were the foremost to defend the pecu- 
 lation of Melville. In short, there has been no public 
 man guilty of an infamous act, of whom they have not 
 taken the part ; and no act of tyranny of which they 
 have not been the eulogists and the principal instru- 
 ment. 
 
 444. But, why do I attempt to describe Parsons to 
 Hampshire men ? You saw them all assembled in grand 
 cohort the last tin^e that I saw any of you. You saw 
 them at Winchester, Avhen they brought forward their 
 lying address to the Regent. You saw them on that 
 day, and so did I ; and in them I saw a band of more 
 complete blackguards than I ever before saw in all my 
 life. I then saw Parson Baines of Exton, standing up 
 in a chair and actually spitting in Lord Cochrane's 
 
 Eoll, while the latter Mas bending his neck out to speak, 
 ord Cochrane looked round and said, " By G — Sir, 
 " if you do that again I'll knock you down." " You 
 *' be d — d," said Baines, " I'll spit where I like." 
 Lord Cochrane struck at him; Baines jumped do^vn, 
 put his two hands to his mouth in a huntsman-like way, 
 and cried "whoop I whoop !" till he was actually black 
 in the face. One of them trampled upon my heel as I 
 was speaking. 1 looked round, and begged him to leave 
 off. " You be d — d," said he, " you be d — d, Jacobin." 
 He then tried to press on me, to stifle my voice, till I 
 clapped my elbow into his ribs and made " the spiritual 
 " person" hiccup. There were about twenty of them 
 mounted upon a large table in the room ; and there 
 they jumped, stamped, hallooed, roared, thumped with 
 canes and umbrellas, squalled, whistled, and made all 
 sorts of noises. As Lord Cochrane and I were going 
 back to London, he said that, so many years as he had
 
 Chap. XIV.] AND Religion. 245 
 
 been in the navy, he never had seen a band of such 
 complete blackguards. And I said the same for the 
 army. And, 1 declare, that, in the whole course of ray 
 life, I have never seen any men, drunk or sober, behave 
 in so infamous a manner. Mr. Phillips, of Eling, (now 
 Doctor Phillips) whom 1 saw standing in the room, I 
 tapped on the shoulder, and asked, whether he was not 
 asnamed, Mr, Lee, of the College; Mr. Ogle, of 
 Bishop's Waltham ; and Doctor Hill, of Southamp- 
 ton : these were exceptions. Perhaps there might be 
 some others ; but the mass was the most audacious, 
 foul, and atrocious body of men I ever saw. We had 
 done nothing to offend them. We had proposed 
 nothing to offend them in the smallest degree. But, 
 ther were afraid of our speeches: they knew they 
 could not answer us; and they were resolved, that, if 
 possible, we should not be heard. There was one par- 
 son, who had his mouth within a foot of Lord Cochrane's 
 ear, all the time his Lordship was speaking, and who 
 kept on saying, " You lie! you lie ! you lie I you lie!" 
 as loud as he could utter the words. 
 
 445. Bakkb, the Botley Parson, was extremely busy. 
 He acted the part of buffoon to Lockhart, He kept 
 capering about behind him^ and really seemed like a 
 merry andrew rather than a " spiritual person." 
 
 446. Such is the character of the great body of Hamp- 
 shire Parsons. I know of no body of men so despi- 
 cable, and yet, what sums of public money do they 
 swallow! It noAv remains for me to speak more par- 
 ticularly of Baker, he who, for your sins I suppose, is 
 fastened upon you as your Parson. But what I have 
 to Ray of this man must be the subject of another Letter. 
 That it should be the subject of any letter at all may 
 well surprize all who know the man ; for not one 
 creature knows him Mithout despising him. But, it is 
 not Baker, it is the scandalous priest, that I strike at. 
 It is the impudent, profligate, hardened priest that I 
 will hold up to public scorn. 
 
 447. When I see the good and kind people here 
 going to church to listen to some decent man of good 
 moral character and of sober quiet life, I always think 
 of you. You are just the same sort of people as they
 
 246 GovEBNMfiNT, Laws, &c. [Part II. 
 
 are here ; but, what a difference in the Clergyman ! 
 What a difTerence between the sober, sedate, friendly 
 man who preaches to one of these congregations, and 
 the greedy, chattering, lying, backbiting, mischief-mak- 
 ing, everlasting plague, that you go to hear, and are 
 compelled to hear, or stay away from the church. Baker 
 always puts me in mind of the Magpie. 
 
 Tlie IMagpie, bird of chatt'iing fame, 
 Whose tongue and hue bespeak his name ; 
 The first a squalling clam! rous clack, 
 Tlie last made up of white and black ; 
 Feeder alike on Jlesh and com, 
 Greedy alike at eve and morn ; 
 Of all the birds thct prying j^est, 
 Must needs be Parmi o'er the rest. 
 
 448. Thus I began a fable, when I lived at Botley. 
 I have forgotten the rest of it. It Avill please 30U to 
 hear that there are no Mag-pies in America ; but, it will 
 please you still more to hear, that no men that resem- 
 ble them are parsons here. I have sometimes been 
 half tempted to believe, that the Magpie first suggested 
 to tyrants the idea of having a tithe-eating Clergy. 
 The Magpie devours the corn and grain ; so does the 
 Parson. The Magpie takes the wool from the sheep's 
 backs; so does the Parson. The Magpie devours alike 
 the young animals and the eggs ; so does the Parson. 
 The Magpie's clack is everlastingly going ; so is the 
 Parson's. The Magpie repeats by rote words that are 
 taught it ; so does the Parson. The Magpie is always 
 skipping and hopping and peeping into other's nests ; 
 so is the Parson. The Magpie's colour is partly black 
 and partly white ; so is the Parson's. The Magpie's 
 greediness, impudence, and cruelty are proverbial ; so 
 are those of the Parson. I was saying to a farmer the 
 other day, that if the Boroughmongers had a mind to 
 ruin America, they would another time, send over five 
 or six good large flocks of Magpies, instead of five or 
 six of their armies; but, upon second thought, they 
 would do the thing far more effectually by sending over 
 five or six flocks of their Parsons, and getting the peo- 
 ple to receive them and cherish them as the Buhcark of 
 religion. 
 
 End of Part II. 
 
 \
 
 A 
 
 YEAR'^S RESIDENCE, 
 
 IN THE 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
 PART III. 
 
 Containing, — Mr. Hulme's Introduction to his Journal — 
 Mr. Hulme's Journal, made during a Tour in the Western 
 Countries of America, in which Tour he visited Mr. Birk- 
 beck's Settlement — Mr. Cobbett's Letters to Mr. Birkbeck, 
 remonstrating witli that Gentleman on the numerous delu- 
 sions, contained in his two publications, entitled " Notes on 
 a Journey in America" and " Letters from Illinois"— Post- 
 script, being the detail of an experiment made in the culti- 
 vation of the Ruta Baga— Second Postscript, a Refutation 
 of Fearon's Falsehoods.
 
 [ 249 ] 
 
 DEDICATION 
 
 To TIMOTHY BRO^VN, Esq. 
 
 OF PECKAM LODGE, SURREY. 
 
 North Hempstead, Long Island, 
 10th Dec. 1818. 
 BIV DEAR SIR, 
 
 The little volume h-^re presented to the public, con- 
 sists, as you will perceive, for the greater and most 
 valuable part, of travelling notes, made by our friend 
 HuLME, whom I had the honour to introduce to you 
 in 1816, and with whom you were so much pleased. 
 
 His activity, which nothing can benumb ; his zeal 
 against the twin monster, tyranny and priestcraft, which 
 nothing can cool ; and his desire to assist in providing a 
 place of retreat for the oppressed, which nothing but 
 the success in the accomplishment can satisfy ; these 
 have induced him to employ almost the whole of his 
 time here in various ways all tending to the same point. 
 
 The Boroughmongers have agents and spies all over 
 the inhabited globe. Here they cannot sell blood: they 
 can only collect information and calumniate the people 
 of both countries. These vermin our friend Jir/is out 
 (as the Hampshire people call it) ; and they hate him 
 as rats hate a tenier. 
 
 Amongst his other labours, he has performed a very 
 
 laborious journey to the Western Countries, and has 
 
 been as far as the Colony of our friend Birkbeck. 
 
 This journey has produced a Journal ; and this Jour- 
 
 M5
 
 250 Dedication. 
 
 nal, along with the rest of the vohime, I dedicate to 
 you in testimony of my constant remembrance of the 
 many, many happy hours I have spent with you, and 
 of the numerous acts of kindness which J have re- 
 ceived at your hands. You A/ere one of those, who 
 sought acquaintance ivith me, when I was shut up in a 
 felon's jaiiybr two years for having expressed my in- 
 dignation at seeing Englishmen flogged, in the heart of 
 England, under a guard of German bayonets and 
 sabres, and Avhen i had on my head a thousand pounds 
 fine and seven years' recognizances. You, at the end 
 of the two years, took me from the prison, in your 
 carriage, home to your house. You and our kind 
 friend. Walker, are, even yet, held in bonds for my 
 good behaviour, the seven years not being expired. 
 All these things are written in the very core of my 
 heart ; and when I act as if I had forgotten any one of 
 them, may no name on earth be so much detested and 
 despised as that of 
 
 Your faithful friend, 
 
 And most obedient servant, 
 
 Wm. cobbett.
 
 E 251 ] 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 TO THE 
 
 THIRD PART. 
 
 449. In giving an account of the United States oi' 
 America, it would not have been proper to omit saying 
 something of the Western Countries, the Newest of the 
 New Worlds, to which so many thousands and hun- 
 dreds of thousands are flocking, and towards which 
 the ^vritings of Mr. Birkbeck have, of late, drawn the 
 pointed attention of all those Englishmen, who, having 
 something left to be robbed of, and wishing to preserve 
 it, are looking towards America as a place of refuge 
 from the Boroughmongers and the Holy Alliance, 
 •which latter, to make the compart complete, seems to 
 want nothing but the accession of His Satanic Majesty. 
 
 450. I could not go to the Western Countries ; and, 
 the accounts of others were seldom to be rehed on; 
 because, scarcely any man goes thither without some 
 degree of partiality, or comes back without being 
 tainted with some little matter, at least, of self-interest. 
 Yet, it was desirable to make an attempt, at least, 
 towards settling the question : " Whether the Atlantic, 
 " or the Western, Countries were the best for English. 
 *' Farmers to settle in." Therefore, when Mr. Hulmb 
 proposed to make a Western Tour, I was very much
 
 252 Preface. 
 
 pleased, seeing that, of all the men I knew, he was 
 the most likely to bring us back an impartial account 
 of what he should see. His great knowledge of farm- 
 ing as well as of manufacturing affairs ; his capacity 
 of estimating local advantages and disadvantages ; the 
 natural turn of his mind for discovering the means of 
 applying to the use of man all that is furnished by the 
 earth, the air, and water ; the patience and perseve- 
 rance with which he pursues all his inquiries; the 
 urbanity of his manners, which opens to him all the 
 sources of information : his inflexible adherence to 
 truth : all these marked him out as the man, on whom 
 the public might safely rely. 
 
 451. I, therefore, give his Journal, made during, 
 his tour. He offers no opinion as to the question above 
 stated. That / shall do ; and when the reader has 
 gone through the Journal he will find my opinions as 
 to that question, which opinions I have stated in a 
 Letter, addressed to Mr. Birkbeck. 
 
 452. The American reader will perceive, that this 
 Letter is intended principally for the perusal of English- 
 men : and, therefore, he must not be surprised if he 
 find a little bickering in a group so much of a. family 
 cast. 
 
 Wm cobbett, 
 
 North Hempstead, 
 19th December, 1818,
 
 A 
 
 YEAR'S RESIDENCE, 
 
 INTRODUCTION TO THE JOURNAL. 
 
 Philadelphia, iOth Sept. 1818. 
 
 453. It seems necessary, by way of Introduction to 
 the following Journal, to say some little matter respect- 
 ing the author of it, and also respecting his motives for 
 wishing it to be published. 
 
 454. As to the first, I am an Englishman by birth 
 and parentage ; and am of the county of Lancaster. I 
 was bred and brought up at farming work, and became 
 an apprentice to the business of Bleacher, at the age 
 of 14 years. My own industry made me a master- 
 bleacher, in which state 1 lived many years at Great 
 Lever, near Bolton, where I employed about 140 men, 
 women, and children, and had generally about 40 ap- 
 prentices. By this business, pursued with incessant 
 application, i had acquired, several years ago, pro- 
 perty to an amount sufficient to satisfy any man of 
 moderate desires. 
 
 455. But, along with my money my children had 
 come and had gone on increasing to the number of nijie. 
 New duties now arose, and demanded my best atten- 
 tion. It was not sufficient that I was likely to have a 
 decent fortune for each child. I was bound to provide, 
 if possible, against my children being stripped of what 
 I had earned for them. I, therefore, looked seriously 
 at the situation of England ; and, I saw, that the in- 
 comes of my children were all pawned (as my friend 
 Cobbett truly calls it) to pay the Debts of the Borough,
 
 254 Introduction to the Journal. 
 
 or seat, ovmers. I saw that, of Avhatever I might be able 
 to give to my children, as well as of what they might 
 be able to earn, more than one half would be taken 
 away to feed pensioned Lords and Ladies, Soldiers to 
 shoot at us, Parsons to perseciile us, and Fundholders, 
 who had lent their money to be applied to purposes of 
 enslaving us. This view of the matter was sufficient 
 to induce the fatlier of nine children to think of the 
 means of rescuing them from the consequences, which 
 common sense tauglit him to apprehend. But, there 
 were other considerations, which operated with me in 
 producing my emigration to America. 
 
 456. In the year 1811 and 1812 the part of the coun- 
 try, in which I lived, was placed under a neio sort of 
 law ; or, in other words, it was placed out of the pro- 
 tection of the old law of the land. Men were seized, 
 dragged to prison, treated like convicts, many trans- 
 ported and put to death, without having committed any 
 thing, which the law of the land deems a crime. It 
 was then that the infamous Spy-System was again set 
 to work in Lancashire, in which horrid system Fletcher 
 of Bolton was one of the principal actors, or, rather, 
 organizers and promoters. At this time I endeavoured 
 to detect the machinations of these dealers in human 
 blood; and, I narrowly escaped being sacrificed my- 
 self on the testimony of two men, who had their pardon 
 oifered them on condition of their swearing against me. 
 The men refused, and were transported, leaving wives 
 and children to starve. 
 
 457. Upon this occasion, my friend Doctor Tay- 
 lor, most humanely, and vvithhis usual zeal and talent, 
 laboured to counteract the works of Fletcher and 
 his associates. The Doctor published a pamphlet on the 
 subject, in 1812, which every Englishman should read. 
 I, as far as I was able, co-operated with him. We 
 went to London, laid the real facts before several mem- 
 bers of the two houses of Parliament ; and, in some 
 degree, checked the progress of the dealers in blood. 
 I had an interview with Lord Holland, and told him, 
 that, if he would pledge himself to cause the secret- 
 service money to be kept in London, I would pledge 
 myself for the keeping of the peace in Lancashire. In
 
 IXTRODCCTION TO THE JoURNAL. 255 
 
 short, it was necessary, in order to support the tyranny 
 oi" the seat-sellers, that terror should prevail in the po- 
 pulous districts. Blood was wanted to flow ; and 7«o- 
 Tiey was given to spies to tempt men into Avhat the new 
 law had made crimes. 
 
 458. From this time I resolved not to leave my chil- 
 dren in such a state of things, unless I should be taken 
 off very suddenly. 1 saw no hope of obtaining a Re- 
 form of the Parliament, Avithout which it was clear to 
 
 me, that the people of England must continue to work 
 solely for the benefit of the great insolent families, whom 
 I hated for their injustice and rapacity, and despised for 
 their meanness and ignorance. I saw, in them, a mass 
 of debauched and worthless beings, having at their 
 command an army to compel the people to surrender 
 to them the fruits of their industry ; and, in addition, a 
 body existing under the garb of religion, almost as 
 despicable in point of character, and still more malig- 
 nant. 
 
 459. I could not have died in peace, leaving my 
 thildren the slaves of such a set of beings ; and, I could 
 not live in peace, knowing that, at any hour, I might 
 die and so leave my family. Therefore I resolved, like 
 the Lark in the fable, to remove my brood, which was 
 still more numerous than that of the Lark. While the 
 war was going on between England and America, I 
 could not come to this country. Besides, I had great 
 affairs to arrange. In 1816, having made my prepa- 
 rations, I set off, not tcith my family ; for, that I did 
 not think a prudent step. It was necessary for me to 
 see what America really was. I, therefore, came for 
 that purpose. 
 
 460. I was well pleased with America, over a con- 
 siderable part of which I travelled. I saw an absence 
 of human misery. I saw a government taking away 
 a very, very small portion of men's earnings. I saw 
 ease and happiness and a fearless utterance of thought 
 every where prevail. I saw laws like those of the old 
 laws of England, everywhere obeyed with cheerfulness 
 and held in veneration. I heard of no mobs, no riots, 
 no spies, no transportings, no hangings, I saw those 
 very Irish, to keep whom in order, such murderous
 
 256 iN'TRODtfcTION TO THE JoUBNAL. 
 
 laws exist in Ireland, here good, peaceable, industrious 
 citizens. 1 saw no placemen and pensioners, riding 
 the people under foot. I saw no greedy Priesthood, 
 fattening on the fruits of labour in which thej had never 
 participated, and which fruits they seized in despite of 
 the people. I saAV a Debt, indeed, but then, it was so 
 insignificant a thing ; and, besides, it had been con- 
 tracted for the peoples use, and not for that of a set of 
 tyrants, who had used the money to the injury of 
 the people. In short, I saAv a state of things, precisely 
 the reverse of that in England, and very nearly what 
 it would be in England, if the Parliament were re- 
 formed. 
 
 461. Therefore, in the xlutumn of 1816,1 returned 
 to England I'ully intending to return the next spring 
 with my family and whatever I possessed of the fruits 
 of my labours, and to make America my country and 
 the country of that family. Upon my return to Eng- 
 land, however, I found a great stir about Reform ; and, 
 having, in their full force, all those feelings, which 
 make our native country dear to us, I said, at once, 
 " my desire is, not to change countr}' or countryman, 
 " but to change slavery for freedom : give me freedom 
 " here, and here I'll remain." These are nearly the 
 very Avords that I uttered to Mr. Cobbett, when first 
 introduced to him, in December, 1816, by that excel- 
 lent man. Major CARTWRiGnr. Nor was I unwilling 
 to labour myself in the cause of Reform. 1 Avas one 
 of those very Delegates, of whom the Borough-tyrants 
 said so many falsehoods, and >vhom Sir Francis Buk- 
 DETT so shamefully abandoneil. In the meeting of 
 Delegates, I thought we Avent too far in reposing con- 
 fidence in him : I spoke my opinion as to this point : 
 and, in a very few days, I had the iiiU proof of the 
 correctness of my opinion. I Avas present Avhen Major 
 Cartwright opened a letter from Sir Francis, which 
 had come from Leicestershire. I thought the kind- 
 hearted old Major would have dropped upon the floor! 
 I shall never forget his looks as he read that letter. If 
 the paultry Burdett had a hundred liA^es, the taking of 
 them all away would not atone for the pain he that day 
 gave to Major CartAfn-ight, not to mention the pain
 
 Introduction to the Journal. 257 
 
 given to others, and the injury done to the cause. For 
 my part, I was not much disappointed. I had no opi- 
 nion of Sir Francis Burdett's being sound. He seem- 
 ed to me too much attached to his own importance to 
 do the people any real service. He is an aristocrat ; 
 and that is enough for me. It is folly to suppose, that 
 such a man will ever be a real friend of the rights of 
 the people. I wish he were here a little while. He 
 would soon find his proper level ; and that Avould not, 
 I think, be very high. Mr. Hunt was very much 
 against our confiding in Bukdett; and he was per- 
 fectly right. I most sincerely hope, that my country- 
 men will finally destroy the tyrants who oppress them ; 
 but, I am very sure, that, before they succeed in it, 
 they must cure themselves of the folly of depending for 
 assistance on the nobles or the half-nobles. 
 
 462. After witnessing this conduct in Burdett, I set 
 off home, and thought no more about effecting a Re- 
 form. The Acts that soon followed were, by me, look- 
 ed upon as matters of course. The tyranny could go 
 
 on no loTlgfPr ll.nrlpr riifytiico. It vaae oompcllctl 10 ShGW 
 
 its naked face ; but, it is now, in reality, not worse than 
 it was before. It now does no more than rob the peo- 
 ple, and that it did before. It kills more now out-right ; 
 but, men may as vrell be shot, or stabbed or hanged, as 
 starved to death. 
 
 463. During the Spring and the early part of the 
 Summer, of 1817, I made preparations for the depar- 
 ture of myself and family, and when all was ready, I 
 bid an everlasting adieu to Boroughmongers, Sinecure 
 placemen and placewomen, pensioned Lords and La- 
 dies, Standing Armies in time of peace, and (rejoice, 
 oh ! my children !) to a hireling, tithe-devouring Priest- 
 hood. We arrived safe and all in good health, and 
 which health has never been impaired by the climate. 
 We are in a state of ease, safety, plenty ; and hoAv can 
 we help being as happy as people can be! The more 
 I see of ray adopted country, the more gratitude do 
 I feel towards it for affording me and my numerous 
 offspring protection from the tvrants of my native coun- 
 try. There I should have been in constant anxiety 
 about my family, Here I am in none at all. Here I
 
 258 Introduction to the Journal: 
 
 am in fear oi no spies, no false witnesses, no blood-money 
 men. Here no fines, irons, or gallowses await me, let 
 me think or say what 1 will about the government. Here 
 I have to pay no people to be ready to shoot at me, or 
 run me through the body, or chop me down. Here 
 no vile Priest can rob me and mock me in the same 
 breath. 
 
 464. In the year 1816 my travelling in America was 
 confined to the Atlantic States. 1 there saw enough to 
 determine the question of emigration or no emigration. 
 But, a spot to settle on myself was another matter ; 
 for, though I do not know, that I shall meddle with any 
 sort of trade, or occupation, in the view of getting mo- 
 ney, I ought to look about me, and to consider soberly 
 as to a spot to settle on with so large a family. It 
 was right, therefore, for me to see the Western Coun- 
 tries. I have done this ; and the particulars, which 
 I thought worthy my notice, I noted down in a Journal. 
 This Journal I now submit to the public. My chief 
 motive in the publication is to endeavour to convey 
 usefid mformatinn, and pspprially tO those DersnnSi 
 who may be disposed to follow my example, and to 
 withdraw their families and fortunes from beneath the 
 hoofs of the tyrants of England. - 
 
 465. i have not the vanity to suppose myself emi' 
 nently qualified for any thing beyond my own profes- 
 sion ; but I have been an attentive observer ; I have 
 raised a considerable fortune by my own industry and 
 economy ; I have, all my life long, studied the matters 
 connected with agriculture, trade, and manufactures. 
 I had a desire to acquire an accurate knowledge of the 
 Western Countries, and Avhat I did acquire I have en- 
 deavoured to communicate to others. It was not my 
 object to give flowery descriptions. I leave that to 
 poets and painters. Neither have I attempted any ge- 
 neral estimate of the means or manner of living, or 
 getting money, in the West. But, 1 have contented 
 myself with merely noting do^vn the facts that struck 
 me ; and from those facts the reader must draw his con- 
 clusions. 
 
 466. In one respect I am a proper person to give 
 an account of the Western Countries. 1 have no lands
 
 Introduction to the Jottrnal. 259 
 
 there : I have qo interest there : I have nothing to warp 
 my judgment in favour of those countries : and yet, 1 
 have as httle in the Atlantic States to warp my judg- 
 ment in their favour. I am perfectly impartial in my 
 feelings, and am, therefore, likely to be impartial in my 
 words. My good wishes extend to the utmost boundary 
 of my adopted country. Every particular part of it is 
 as dear to me as every other particular part, 
 
 467. I have recommended most strenuously the en- 
 couraging and promoting of Domestic Mumifacture; 
 not because 1 mean to be engaged in any such concern 
 myself; for it is by no means likely that I ever shall ; 
 but, because I tliink that such encouragement and pro- 
 motion would be greatly beneficial to America, and 
 because it would provide a happy Asylum for my 
 native, oppressed, and distressed countrymen, who have 
 been employed all the days of their lives in manufac- 
 tures in England, where the j)rincipal part of the 
 immense profits of tlieir labour is consumed by the 
 Borough tyrants and their friends, and expended for 
 the vile purpose of perpetuating u system of plunder 
 and despotism at home, and all over the world. 
 
 408, Before I conclude this Introduction, I must 
 obsene, that I see with great pain, and with some de- 
 pjree of shame, the behaviour of some persons from 
 England, Mho appear to think that they give proof of 
 their high breeding by repaying civility, kindness, and 
 hospitalit}, Avith reproach and insolence. HoAvever, 
 these persons are dcxpiscd. They produce very little 
 impression here ; and, though the accounts they send to 
 England, may be believed by some, they will have lit- 
 tle effect on persons of sense and virtue. Truth will 
 make its way ; and it is, thank God, now making its 
 way with great rapidity. 
 
 469. I could mention numerous instances of English- 
 men, coming to this country <\ith hardly a dollar in their 
 pocket, and arriving at a state of ease and plenty and 
 even riches in a few years ; and I explicitly declare, 
 that I have never known or heard of, an instance of 
 one common labourer who, with common industry and 
 economy, did not greatly better his lot. Indeed, how 
 can it otherwise be, when the average wages of agri-
 
 260 Introduction to the Journal. 
 
 cultural labour is double what it is in England, and 
 when the average price of food is not more than half 
 what it is in that country f These two facts, undeniable 
 as they are, are quite sufficient to satisfy any man of 
 sound mind. 
 
 470. As to the manners of the people, they are pre- 
 cisely to my taste : unostentatious and simple. Good 
 sense I find every where, and never affectation. Kind- 
 ness, hospitality and never-failing civility, I have 
 travelled more than four thousand miles about this 
 country ; and I have never met with one single insolent 
 or rude native American. 
 
 471. I trouble myself very little about the party 
 politics of the country.' These contests are the natural 
 offspring of freedom ; and, they tend to perpetuate that 
 which produces them. I look at the people as a whole ; 
 and I love them and feel grateful to them for having 
 given the world a practical proof, that peace, social 
 order, and general happiness can be secured, and best 
 secured, without Monarchs, Dukfs, Counts, Baronets, 
 and Knights. I have no unfriendly feeling towards 
 any Religious Society. 1 wish well to every member 
 of every such Society ; but, I love the Quakers, and 
 feel grateful towards them, for having proved to the 
 world, that all the virtues, public as well as private, 
 flourish most and bring forth the fairest fruits when un- 
 incumbered Avith those noxious weeds, hireling priests. 
 
 THOMAS HULME.
 
 [ 261 ] 
 
 THE JOURNAL. 
 
 472. PITTSBURGH, June 3— Arrived here with 
 a friend as travelling companion, by the mail stage from 
 Philadelphia, after a journey of six days ; having set 
 out on the 28th May. We were much pleased with the 
 face of the country, the greatest part of which was new 
 to me. The route, as far as Lancaster, lay through a 
 rich and fertile country, well cultivated by good, settled 
 proprietors ; the road excellent : smooth as the smoothest 
 in England, and hard as those made by the cruel 
 corvees in France. The country finer, but the road not 
 always so good, all the way from Lancaster, by Little 
 York, to Chambersburgh ; after which it changes for 
 mountains and poverty, except in timber. Chambers- 
 burgh is »ituated on the North West side of that fine 
 . ralley which lies between the South and North Moun- 
 tains, and which extends from beyond the North East 
 boundary of Pennsylvania to nearly the South West 
 extremity of North Carolina, and which has Hmestone 
 for its bottom and rich and fertile soil, and beauty upon 
 the face of it, from one end to the other. The ridges 
 of mountains called the Alle^jany, and forming the 
 highest land in North America between the Atlantic and 
 Pacific oceans, begin here and extend across our route 
 nearly 100 miles, or rather, three days, for it was no less 
 than half the journey to travel over them ; they rise one 
 above the other as we proceed Westward, till we reach 
 the Allegany, the last and most lofty of all, from which 
 we have a view to the West farther than the eye can 
 carry. I can say nothing in commendation of the road 
 over these mountains, but I must admire the drivers, 
 and their excellent horses. The road is every thing 
 that is bad, but the skill of the drivers, and the weU
 
 262 JouBNAL. [Part III. 
 
 constructed vehicles, and the capital old English horses, 
 overcome every thing. We were rather singularly for- 
 tunate in not breaking down or upsetting ; I certainly 
 should not have been surprized if the whole thing, horses 
 and all, had gone off the road and been dashed to 
 pieces. A new road is making, hovvever, and when 
 that is completed, the journey will be shorter in point 
 of time, just one half. A fine even country we get into 
 immediately on descending the Allegany, with very 
 little appearance of unevenness or of barrenness all the 
 way to Pittsburgh ; the evidence of good land in the 
 crops, and the country beautified by a various mixture 
 of woods and fields. 
 
 473. Very good accommodations for travellers the 
 whole of the way. The stage stops to breakfast and to 
 dine, and sleeps where it sups. They literally feasted 
 us every where, at every meal^ with venison and good 
 meat of all sorts: every thing in profusion. In one 
 point, however, I must make an exception, with regard 
 to some houses : at night I was surprized, in taverns so 
 well kept in other respects, to find bugs in the beds ! 
 I am sorry to say I observed (or, reLther, felt,) this too 
 often. Always good eating and drinking, but not al- 
 ways good sleeping. 
 
 474. June 4th and hth. — Took a view of Pittsburgh. 
 It is situated between the mouths of the rivers Allegany 
 and Monongahela, at the point where thej meet and 
 begin the Ohio, and is laid out in a triangular form, so 
 that two sides of it lie contiguous to the water. Called 
 upon Mr. Bakewell, to whom we were introduced by 
 letter, and who very obligingly satisfied our curiosity to 
 see every thing of importance. After showing us through 
 his extensive and well conducted glass works, he rowed 
 us across the Monongahela to see the mines from which 
 the fine coals we had seen burning were brought. These 
 coals are taken out from the side of a steep hill, very 
 near to the river, and brought from thence and laid 
 down in any part of the town for 7 cents the bushel, 
 weighing, perhaps, 80 lbs. Better coals I never saw. 
 A bridge is now building over the river, by which they 
 will most probably be brought still cheaper. 
 
 475. This place surpasses even my expectations,
 
 Part III.] Journal 263 
 
 both in natural resources and in extent of manufactures. 
 Here are the materials for every species of manufac- 
 ture, nearly, and of excellent quality and in profusion ; 
 and these means have been taken advantage of by sliil- 
 ful andinfJustrious artizans and mechanics from all parts 
 of the world. There is scarcely a denomination of 
 manufacture or manual profession that is not carried on 
 to a great extent, and, as far as 1 have been able to ex- 
 amine, in the best manner. The manufacture of iron 
 in all the different branches, and the mills of all sorts, 
 which I examined with the most attention, are admirable. 
 
 476. Price of flour, from 4 to 5 dollars a barrel ; 
 butter 14 cents per lb. ; other provisions in proportion 
 and mechanic's and good labourer's wages 1 dollar, and 
 ship-builder's 1 dollar and a half, a day. 
 
 477. June (ith. — Leave Pittsburgh, and set out in a 
 thing called an ark, which we buy for the purpose, 
 down the Ohio. We have, besides, a small skiff, to 
 tow the ark and go ashore occasionally. This ark, 
 which would stow away eight persons, close packed, is 
 a thing by no means pleasant to travel in, especially at 
 night. It is strong at bottom, but ma}' be compared to 
 an orange-box, bowed over at top, and so badly made as 
 to admit a boy's hand to steal the oranges : it is proof 
 against the river, but not against the rain. 
 
 478. Just on going to push off the wharf, an English 
 officer stepped on board of us, w ith all the curiosity ima- 
 ginable. I at once took him for a spy hired to Avay-lay 
 travellers. He began a talk about the Western Coun- 
 tries, anxiously assuring us that we need not hope to 
 meet with such a thing as a respectable person, travel 
 where we would. I told him I hoped in God I should 
 see no spy or informer, whether in plain clothes or regi- 
 mentals, and that of one thing I was certain, at any 
 rate : that I should find no Sinecure placeman or pen- 
 sioner in the Western country. 
 
 479. The Ohio, at its commencement, is about 600 
 yards broad, and continues running with nearly parallel 
 sides, taking two or three different directions in its 
 course, for about 200 miles. There is a curious con- 
 trast between the waters which form this river : that of 
 the Allegany is clear and transparent, that of the Mo-
 
 264 Journal. [Part IIL 
 
 nongahela thick and muddy, and it is not for a conside- 
 rable distance that they entirely mingle. The sides of 
 the river are beautiful; there are always rich bottom 
 lands upon the banks, which are steep and pretty high, 
 varying in width from a few yards to a mile, and skirted 
 with steep hills varying also in height, overhanging with 
 fine timber. 
 
 480. June Ith. — Floating down the Ohio, at the rate 
 of four miles an hour. Lightning, thunder, rain and 
 hail pelting in upon us. The hail-stones as large as 
 English hazel-nuts. Stop at Steubenville all night. A 
 nice place ; has more stores than taverns, which is a 
 good sign. 
 
 481. June 8<A.*— Came to Wheeling at about 12 
 o'clock. It is a handsome place, and of considerable 
 note. Stopped about an hour. Found flour to be about 
 4 to 5 dollars a barrel ; fresh beef 4 to 6 cents per lb., 
 and other things (the produce of the country) about the 
 same proportion. Labourers' wages, 1 dollar a day. 
 Fine coals here, and at Steubenville. 
 
 482. June 9th.' — Two fine young men join us, one a 
 carpenter and the other a saddler, from Washington, in 
 a skiff that they have bought at Pittsburgh, and in which 
 they are taking a journey of about 700 miles down the 
 river. We allow them to tie their skiff to our ark, for 
 which they very cheerfully assist us. Much diverted to 
 see the nimbleness with which they go on shore some- 
 times with their rifles to shoot pigeons and squirrels. 
 The whole expenses of these two young men in floating 
 the 700 miles, will be but 7 dollars each, including skiff 
 and every thing else. 
 
 4R3. This day pass Marietta, a good looking town 
 at the mouth of the Muskingham River. It is, how- 
 ever, like many other towns on the Ohio, built on too 
 low ground, and is subject to inundations. Here I ob- 
 serve a contrivance of great ingenuity. There is a 
 strong rope put across the mouth of the river, opposite 
 the town, fastened to trees or large posts on each side ; 
 upon this rope runs a pulley or block, to which is at- 
 tached a rope, and to the rope a ferry-boat, which, by 
 moving the helm first one way and then the other, is 
 propelled by the force of the water across the river 
 backwards or forwards.
 
 Part III.] Journal. 265 
 
 484. June 10//t. — Pass several fine coal mines, which, 
 like those at Pittsburgh, Steubenville, Wheeling and 
 other places, are not above 50 yards from the river and 
 are upwards of 10 yards above high water. The river 
 now becomes more winding than we have hitherto found 
 it. It is sometimes so serpentine that it appears before 
 and behind like a contiiniation of lakes, and the hills 
 on its banks seem to be the separations. Altogether, 
 nothing can be more beautiful. 
 
 485. Jane Wth. — A very hot day, but I could not 
 discover the degree of lieaf. On going along we bought 
 two Perch, weighing about 8 lbs. each, for 25 cents, of 
 a boy who was fishing. Fish of this sort will sometimes 
 weigh 30 lbs. each. 
 
 48(j. June 12th. — Pass Portsmouth, at the mouth of 
 the Scioto River. A sort of village, containing a hun- 
 dred or two of houses. Not worthy of any particular 
 remark. 
 
 487. Ju7ie 13th. — Arrived at Cincinnati about mid- 
 night. Tied our ark to a large log at the side of the 
 river, and went to sleep. Before morning, however, the 
 fastening broke, and, if it had not been for a watchful 
 hack-woodsman whom we had taken on board some 
 (hstance up the river, we might have floated ten or fif- 
 teen miles without knowing it. Tliis back-woodsman, 
 besides being of much service to us, has been a very en- 
 tertaining companion. He sa^s he has been in this 
 country forty years, but that he is an Englishman, and 
 was bred in Sherwood Porest (he could not have come 
 from a better nursery). All his adventures he detailed 
 to us very minutely, but dwelt with particular warmth 
 upon one he had had with a priest, lately, who, to spite 
 him fur preaching, brouglit an action against him, but 
 was cast and had to pay costs. 
 
 Hr488. June 1 l//t and loth. — Called upon Doctor 
 Drake and upon a Mr. Bosson, to whom we had letters. 
 These gentlemen shewed us the greatest civility, and 
 treated us with a sort of kindness which must have 
 changed the opinion even of the English officer whom 
 we saw at Pittsburgh, had he been with us. I could 
 tell that dirty hireling scout, that even in this short space 
 of time, I have had the pleasure to meet many gentle-
 
 266 Journal. [Part III. 
 
 men, very well informed, and possessing great know- 
 ledge as to their own country, evincing public spirit in 
 all their actions, and hospitality and kindness in all their 
 demeanour ; but, it' they be pensioners, male or female, 
 or sinecure place lords or ladies, I have yet come across, 
 thank God, no respectable people. 
 
 489. Cincinnati is a very fine town, and elegantly 
 (not only in the American acceptation of the word) 
 situated on the banks of the river, nearly opposite to 
 Licking Creek, which runs out of Kentucky, and is a 
 stream of considerable importance. The country round 
 the town is beautiful, and the soil rich ; the fields in its 
 immediate vicinity bear principally grass, and clover of 
 different sorts, the fragrant smell of which perfumes the 
 air. The to\vn itself raiiks next to Pittsburgh, of the 
 towns on the Ohio, in point of manufactures. 
 
 490. We sold our ark, and its produce formed a de- 
 duction from our expenses, which, with that deduction, 
 amounted to 14 dollars each, including every thing, for 
 the journey from Pittsburgh to this place, which is up- 
 wards of 500 miles. I could not but remark the price 
 of fuel here ; 2 dollars a cord for Hickory ; a cord is 
 8 feet by 4, and 4 deep, and the wood, the best in the 
 world ; it burns much like green Ash, but gives more 
 heat. This, which is of course the highest price for 
 fuel in this part of the country, is only about a fifth of 
 what it is at Philadelphia. 
 
 491. June Wth. — Left Cincinnati for Louisville with 
 seven other persons, in a skiff about 20 feet long and 
 5 feet >\ide. 
 
 492. June I7th. — Stopped at Vevay, a very neat 
 and beautiful place, about 70 miles above the falls of 
 the Ohio. Our visit here was principally to see the 
 mode used, as well as what progress was made, in the 
 cultivation of the vine, and I had a double curiosity, 
 never having as yet seen a vineyard. These vineyards 
 are cultivated entirely by a small settlement of Swiss, of 
 about a dozen families, who have been here about ten 
 years. They first settled on the Kentucky river, but 
 aid not succeed there. They plant the vines in rows, 
 attached to stakes like espaliers, and they plough be- 
 ween with a one-horse plough. The grapes, which are
 
 Part III.] Journal. 26T 
 
 of the sorts of claret and madeira, look very fine and 
 luxuriant, and will be ripe in about the middle of Sep- 
 tember. The soil and climate both appear to be quite 
 congenial to the groAvth of the nne : the former rich and 
 the latter warm. The north west wind, when it blows, 
 is very cold, but the south, south east and south west 
 winds, which are always warm, are prevalent. The 
 heat, in the middle of the summer, I understand, is very 
 great, being generally above 85 degrees, and sometimes 
 above 100 degrees. Each of these families has a farm 
 as well as a vineyard, so that they supply themselves 
 with almost every necessary and have their wine all 
 clear profit. Their produce will this year be probably 
 not less than 5000 gallons ; we bought 2 gallons of it 
 at a dollar each, as good as I would wish to drink. 
 Thus it is that the tyrants of Europe create vineyards 
 in this new country ! 
 
 493. June l^tli. — Arrived at Louisville, Kentucky. 
 The town is situated at the commencement of the falls, 
 or rapids of the Ohio. The river, at this place, is little 
 less than a mile wide, and the falls continue from a ledge 
 of rocks which runs across the river in a sloping direc- 
 tion at this part, to Shippingport, about 2 miles lower 
 down. Perceiving stagnant waters about the town, and 
 an appearance of the house that we stopped at being 
 infested with bugs, we resolved not to make any stay at 
 Louisville, but got into our skiff and floated down the 
 falls to Shippingport. We found it very rough floating, 
 not to say dangerous. The river of very unequal 
 widths and full of islands and rocks along this short 
 distance, and the current very rapid, though the descent 
 is not more than 22 feet. At certain times of the year 
 the water rises so that there is no fall ; large boats can 
 then pass. 
 
 494. At Shippingport, stopped at the house of Mr. 
 Berthoud, a very respectable French gentleman, from 
 whom we received the greatest civility during our stay, 
 which was two nights and the day intervening. 
 
 495. Shippingport is situated at a place of very great 
 importance, being the upper extremity of that part of 
 the river which is navigable for heavy steam-boats. All 
 the goods coming from the country are re-shipped, and 
 
 .■ N 2
 
 268 Journal. [Part III, 
 
 every thing going to it is iin-shipped, here. Mr. Ber- 
 thoud has the store in Avhich the articles exporting or 
 importing are lodged ; and is, indeed, a great shipper, 
 though at a thousand miles from the sea. 
 
 496. June 20lU. — Left the good and comfortable 
 house of Mr. Berthoud, very much pleased with him 
 and his amiable wife and fainilj, though 1 differed with 
 him a little in politics. Having been taught at church, 
 when a boy, that the Pope was the M-hore of Babylon, 
 that the Bourbons were tyrants, and that the Priests 
 and privileged orders of France were impostors and 
 petty tyrants under them, I could not agree with him 
 in applauding the Boroughmongers of England for re- 
 subjugating the people of France, and restoring the 
 Bourbons, the Pope, and the Inquisition. 
 
 497. Stop at New Albany, 2 miles below Shipping- 
 port, till the evening. A Mr. Paxton, I am told, is 
 the proprietor of a great part of the town, and has the 
 grist and saw-mills, which are worked by steam, and 
 the ferry across the river. Leave this place in company 
 with a couple of young men from the western part of the 
 state of New York, who are on their way to Tennessee 
 in a small ferry-boat. Their whole journey will, pro- 
 bably, be about 1,500 miles. 
 
 498. June 2\st. — Floating down the river, without 
 any thing in particular occiuTing. 
 
 499. June 22?trf. — Saw a Mr. Johnstone and his wife 
 reaping wheat on the side of the river. They told us 
 they had come to thir^ spot last year, direct from 3lan- 
 chester, Old England, and had bought their little farm 
 of 55 acres of a back-woodsman who had cleared it, 
 and was glad to move farther westward, for 3 dollars an 
 acre. They had a fine flock of little children, and pigs 
 and poultry, and were cheerful and happy, being con- 
 fident that their industry and economy would not be 
 frustrated by visits for tithes or taxes. 
 
 500. June 23rd. — See great quantities of turkey- 
 buzzards and thousands of pigeons. Came to Pigeon 
 Creek, about 230 miles below the Falls, and stopped 
 for the night at Evansville, a to^vn of nine months old, 
 near the mouth of it. We are now frequently met and 
 passed by large, fine steam-boats, plying up and down
 
 Part III.] Journal. 269 
 
 t!ie river. One v/ent by us as we arrived here wliieh 
 had left Shippingport only t!ie evening before. They 
 go down the river at tlie rate cf 10 miles an hour, and 
 charge passengers G cents a mile, ijoarding and lodging 
 included. 1'he price is great, but the fnue is short. 
 
 501. Jhhc 24///.— Leit'^Evansville. This little plac? 
 is rapidly increa!<ing, and promisf^s to be a tov, n of 
 considerable trade. It is situated at a spot -which 
 seems likely to become a port lor shipping to Prince- 
 ton and a prettv large district of Indiana. 1 find that 
 the land speculators have made entrv of the most 
 eligible tracts of land, which will impede the partial, 
 though not the final, progress of population and im- 
 provement in this part of the state. 
 
 60'2. On our way to Princeton, we see large flocks 
 of fine M'ild turkeys, and whole herds of pigs, appa- 
 rently very fat. The pigs are wild also, but have 
 become so from neglect. Koine of the inhabitants, Avho 
 prefer sport to work, live by Rhooling these wihl turkeys 
 and pigs, and indeed, soineiimes, I understand, they 
 s!u)ot and carry off those of their neighbours beiuro 
 they are wild. 
 
 503. June 'Ihth. — Arrived at Princeton, Indian;?, 
 about twenty miles Iroin the river. 1 Mas sorry to see 
 rery little doing in this town. They caimot all keep 
 stores and ta^ erns ! One of the storekeepers told me 
 he does not sell more than ten thousand dollars vahie 
 per annum : he ouglit, then, to m'.nufacture something 
 ami not spend nine tenths of his time ii\ lolling with a 
 segar in his mouth. 
 
 504. June'ldfli. At Princeton, mdeavoining to piu- 
 chase horses, as we had now gone i'ar enough down the 
 Ohio. While waiting in our tavern, two men called in 
 armed with rifles, and nuvde en<piiries for some horses 
 they suspected to be stolen. They told us they had 
 been almost all the way from .Albany, to Shawnee 
 town after them, a distance of alsout 150 miles. I 
 asked them how tliey Mould be able to secure the 
 thieves, if they overtook them, in these Mild Moods ; 
 *' O," said they, " shoot them off the horses." This 
 is a summary mode of executing justice, thought I, 
 though probably the most effectual, ond, indeed, only
 
 270 Journal. [Part III. 
 
 one in this state of society. A thief very rarely escapes 
 here ; not nearly so often as in more populous districts. 
 The fact was, in this case, however, we discovered 
 afterwards, that the horses had strayed away, and had 
 returned home hy this time. But, if they had been 
 stolen, the stealers would not have escaped. When the 
 loser is tired, another Mill take up the pursuit, and the 
 whole coimtry is up in arms till he is found. 
 
 505. June 27<A.— Still af Princeton. At last we 
 get suited with horses. Mine costs me only 1 35 dol- 
 lars with the bridle and saddle, and that I am told is. 
 18 dollars too much. 
 
 506. June 28fA. — Left Princeton, and set out to see 
 Mr. Birkbeck's settlement, in Illinois, about 35 miles 
 from Princeton. Before we got to the Wabash we 
 had to cross a swamp of half a mile Avide ; we were 
 obliged to lead our horses, and walk up to the knees 
 in mud and water. Before we got half across we be- 
 gan to thhik of going back ; but, there is a sound 
 bottom under it all, and we waded through it as well as 
 •we could. It is, in fact, nothing but a bed of very 
 soft and rich land, and only wants draining to be made 
 productive. We soon after came to the banks of the 
 great Wabash, which is here about half a mile broad, 
 and as the ferry-boat was crossing over Avith us I amused 
 myself by washing my dirty boots. Before we mounted 
 again we happened to meet Avith a neighbour of 
 Mr. Birkbeck's, Avho was returning home ; Ave accom- 
 panied him, and soon entered into the prairie lands, up 
 to our horses' bellies in fine grass. These prairies, A'/hich 
 are surrounded Avith lofty woods, put me in mind of 
 immense noblemen's parks in England. Some of those 
 we passed over are called icet prairies, but, they are 
 dry at this time of the year ; and, as they are none of 
 them flat, they need but very simple draining to 
 carry off the water all the year round. Our horses 
 were very much tormented Avith flies, .some as large as 
 the English horse-fly and some as large as the Avasp ; 
 these flies infest the prairies that are unimproved about 
 three months in the year, but go away altogether as 
 soon as cultivation begins. 
 
 507. Mr. Birkbeck's settlement is situated between
 
 Part III.] Journal.^ 271 
 
 the two Wabashes, and is about ten n\iles from the 
 nearest navigable water ; we arrived there about sun- 
 set, and met with a welcome which amply repaid us 
 for our day's toil. We found that gentleman with his 
 two sons perfectly healthy and in high spirits : his 
 daughters were at'Henderson (a town in Kentucky, on 
 the Ohio) on a visit. At present his habitation is a 
 cabin, the building of which cost only 20 dollars ; this 
 little hutch is near the spot where he is about to build 
 his house, which he intends to have in the most eligible 
 situation in the prairie for convenience to fuel and for 
 shelter in winter, as well as for breezes in .summer, 
 and will, when that is completed, make one of its ap- 
 purtenances. I like this plan of keeping the old log- 
 house ; it reminds the grand children and their chidren's 
 children of what their ancestor has done for their 
 sake. 
 
 508. Few settlers had as yet joined Mr. Birkbcck ; 
 that is to say, settlers Ukely to become " society ;" he 
 has labourers enough near him, either in his own houses 
 or on land of their own joining his estate. He was in 
 daily expectation of his friends Mr. Flower's family, 
 however, with a large party besides ; they had just 
 landed at Shawnee Town, about 20 miles distant, 
 Mr, Birkbeck imforms me he has made entry of a large 
 tract of land, lying, part of it, all the way from his 
 residence to the great AVabash ; this he will re-sell again 
 in lots to any of his Iriends, they taking as much of it 
 and wherever they choose (provided it be no more than 
 they can cultivate), at an advance which 1 think very 
 fair and liberal. 
 
 509. The whole of his operations had been directed 
 hitherto (and wisely in my opinion) to building, fencing, 
 and other important preparations. He had done no- 
 thing in the cultivating way but make a good garden, 
 which supplies him with the only things that he cannot 
 purchase, and, at present, perhaps, with more economy 
 than he could grow them. He is within twenty miles 
 of Harmony, in Indiana, where he gets his flour and 
 all other necessaries (the produce of the country) and 
 therefore employs himself much better in making barns 
 and houses and mills for the reception and disposal of
 
 272 Journal. [Part III. 
 
 his crops, and fences to preserve them while growing, 
 before he grows them, than to get the crops first. I 
 have heard it observed that any American settler, even 
 without a dollar in his pocket, Avould have had some' 
 thing growing by this time. Very true ! I do not 
 question that at all ; for, the very first care of a settler 
 without a dollar in his pocket is to get something to 
 eat, and, he would consequently set to work scratching 
 up the earth, fully confident that after a long summer- 
 ing upon wild flesh (without salt, perhaps,) his own 
 belly would stand him for bam, if his jaws would not 
 for mill. But the ca^ is ver^^ different with Mr. 
 Birkbeck, and at present he has need for no other 
 provision for winter but about a three hundredth part 
 of his fine grass turned into hay, which will keep his 
 necessary horses and cows : besides which he has no- 
 thing that eats but such pigs as live upon the Avaste, 
 and a couple of fine young deer (which would weigh, 
 they say, when full grown, 200 lbs. dead Aveight) that 
 his youngest son is rearing up as pets, 
 
 510. 1 very much admire Mr. Birkbejjk's mode of 
 fencing. He makes a ditch 4 feet wide at top, sloping 
 to 1 foot wide at bottom, and 4 feet deep. With the earth 
 that comes out of the ditch he makes a bank on one 
 side, which is turfed towards the ditch. Then a long 
 pole is put up from the bottom of the ditch to 2 feet 
 above the bank ; this is crossed by a short pole from 
 the other side, and then a rail is laid along between the 
 forks. The banks were growing beautifully, and looked 
 altogether very neat as well as formidable ; though a 
 live hedge (which he intends to have) instead of dead 
 poles and rails, upon top, would make the fence far 
 more effectual as well as handsomer. I am always 
 surprised, until I reflect how universally and to what a 
 degree, farming is neglected in this country, that this 
 mode of fencing is not adopted in cultivated districts, 
 especially where the land is wet, or lies low ; for, there 
 it answers a double purpose, being as effectual a drain 
 as it is a fence. 
 
 511. I was rather disappointed, or sorry, at any 
 rate, not to find near Mr. Birkbeck's any of the means 
 for machinery or of the materials for manufactures,
 
 Part III.] Journal. ^ 279 
 
 such as the wafer-falls, and the minerals and mines, 
 which are possessed in such abundance by the states 
 of Ohio and Kentucky-, and by some parts of Penn- 
 sylvania. Some of these, ho-vvever, he may yet find. 
 Good water he has, at any rate. He showed me a 
 well 25 feet deep, bored partly through hard sub- 
 stances near the bottom, that was nearly overflowing 
 ■\vith water of excellent quality. 
 
 512. Juki \st. — Left 3Ir. Birkbeck's for Harmony, 
 Indiana. The distance by the direct May is about 18 
 miles, but there is no road, as yet; indeed, it was 
 often with much difficulty that we could discover the 
 way at all. After we had crossed the Wabash, Mhich 
 we did at a place called Davis's Ferry, we hired a 
 man to conduct us some part of the way through the 
 woods. In about a mile he brought us to a track, 
 which was marked out by slips of bark being stripped 
 off the trees, once in about 40 yards ; he then left us, 
 and told us we could not mistake if we followed that 
 track. We soon lost all appearance of the track, 
 however, and of the " blazing " of the trees, as they 
 call it ; but, as it was useless to go back again for 
 another guide, our only way was to keep straight on 
 in the same direction, bring us where it Mould. Ilaving 
 no compass, this nearly cost us our sight, for it was 
 just mid-day, and we had to gaze at the sun a long 
 time before we discovered wharwas our course. Alter 
 this Me soon, to our gjroat joy, found ourselves in a 
 large corn field ; rode round it, and came to Johnson's 
 Ferry, a place where a Hayou {Boyau) of the Wabash 
 is crossed. This Bayou is a run out of the main river, 
 round a fiat portion of land, Mhich is sometimes over- 
 floMed : it is part of tlie same river, and t!ie land en- 
 compassed by it, an ishmd. Crossed this ferry in a 
 canoe, and got a ferry-man to SM'iui our horses after 
 us. Mounted again and foUoMed a track M-hich brought 
 us to Black River, >vhich mc forded without getting 
 wet, by holding our fefct up. After crossing the river 
 we found a man who Mas kind enough to shew us 
 about half a mile through the woods, by which our 
 journey was shortened five or six miles. He put us 
 into a direct track to Harmony, through lands as rich 
 N5"
 
 274 Journal. [Part III. 
 
 as a dung-hill, and covered with immense timber ; we 
 thanked him, and pushed on out horses "vvith eager 
 curiosity to see this lar-ikmed Harmonist Society. 
 
 513. On coming viithin the precincts of the Harmo- 
 nites we found ourselves at the side of the Wabash 
 again ; the river on our right hand, and their lands on 
 our Jeft. Our road now lay across a field of Indian 
 corn, of, at the very least, a mile in width, and border- 
 ing the town on the side we entered ; I wanted nothing 
 more than to behold this immense field of most beau- 
 tiful corn to be at once convinced of all 1 had heard of 
 the industry of this society of Germans, and I found, 
 on proceeding a little farther, that the progress they 
 had made exceeded all my idea of it. 
 
 514. The town is methodically laid out in a situation 
 well chosen in all respects ; the houses are good and 
 clean, and have, each one, a nice garden well stocked 
 ■with all vegetables and tastily ornamented with flowers. 
 1 observe that these people are very fond of floAvers, 
 by the bye ; the cultivation of them, and musick, are 
 their chief amusements. T am sorry to see this^ as it 
 is to me a strong symptom of simplicity and ignorance, 
 if not a badge of their German slavery. Perhaps the 
 pains they take with them is the cause of their flowers 
 being finer than any I have hitherto seen in America, 
 but, most probably, the climate here is more favour- 
 able. Having refreshed ourselves at the Tavern, 
 where we I'ound every thing we Avanted for ourselves 
 and our horses, and all very clean and nice, besides 
 many good things Ave did not expect, such as beer, por- 
 ter, and even Avine, all made within the Society, and 
 very good indeed, we then Avent out to see the people 
 at their harvest, Avhich was just begun. There Avere 
 150 men and women all reaping in the same field of 
 ■wheat. A beautiful sight ! The crop was very fine, and 
 the field, extending to about two miles in length, and 
 from half a mile to a mile in Avidth, Avas all open to 
 one view, the sun shining on it from the West, and the 
 reapers advancing regularly over it. 
 
 515. At sun-set all the people came in, from the 
 fields, Avork-shops, mills, manufactories, and irom all 
 their labours. This being their evening for prayer
 
 Part III. J Journal; 27* 
 
 during the week, the Church bell called them out again, 
 in about 15 minutes, to attend a lecture from their 
 High Priest and Law-giver, Mr. George Rapp. "We 
 went to hear the lecture, or, rather, to see the perform- 
 ance, for, it being all performed in German, we could 
 understand not a word. The people were all collected 
 in a twinkling, the men at one end of the Church and 
 the women at the other; it looked something like a 
 Quaker Meeting, except that there was not a single 
 little child in the place. Here they were kept by their 
 Pastor a couple of liours, alter which they returned 
 home to bed. This is the quantum of Church-serrice 
 they perform during the week ; but on Sundays they 
 are in Church nearly the whole of the time from getting 
 up to going to bed. When it happens that Mr. Rapp 
 cannot attend, either by indisposition or other accident, 
 the Society still meet as usual, and the elders (certain 
 of the most trusty and discreet, whom the Pastor se- 
 lects as a sort of assistants in his divine commission) 
 converse on religious subjects. 
 
 51(>. Return to the Tavern to sleep; a good com- 
 fortable house, well kept by decent people, and the 
 master himself, Avho is very intelligent and obliging, is 
 one of the very few at Harmony who ca)i speak English. 
 Our beds were as good as those stretched upon by the 
 most highly pensioned and placed Boroughmongers, and 
 our sleep, I hope, much better than the tyrants ever get, 
 in spite of all their dungeons and gags. 
 
 517. July 2nd. — Early in the morning, took a look 
 at the manufacturing establishment, accompanied by 
 our Tavern-keeper. I find great attention is paid to 
 this branch of their affairs. Their principle is, not to 
 be content with the profit upon the manual labour of 
 raising the article, but also to have the , benefit of the 
 machine in preparing it for use. 1 agree with them 
 perfectly, and only wish the subject was as well under- 
 stood all over the United States as it is at Harmony. 
 It is to their skill in this way that they owe their great 
 prosperity ; if they had been nothing but farmers, thev 
 would be now at Harmony in Pennsylvania, poor eut- 
 tivators, getting a bare subsistence, instead of having 
 doubled their property two or three times over, by
 
 276 Journal. [Part III. 
 
 which they have been able to move here and select one 
 of the choicest spots in the country. 
 
 518. But in noting down the' state of this Society, 
 as it now is, its origin should not be forgotten ; the cu- 
 rious history of it serves as an explanation to the jumble 
 of sense and absurdity in the association. I will there- 
 fore trace the Harmonist Society from its outset in 
 Germany to this place. 
 
 519. The Sect had its origin at Wurtemberg in Ger- 
 many, about 40 years ago, in the person of its present 
 Pastor and Master, George Rapp, who, by his own ac- 
 count, "having long seen and felt the decline of the 
 " Church, found himself impelled to bear testim.ony to 
 " the fundamental principles of the Christian Reli- 
 " gion ; and, finding no toleration i'or his inspired doc- 
 " trines, or for those who adopted them, he determined 
 " with his followers to go to that part of the earth, M'here 
 " they were free to Avorship God according to the dic- 
 " tates of their conscience." In other words (I suppose), 
 he had long beheld and experienced the slavery and 
 miser}' of his country, and, feeling in his conscience 
 that he was born more for a ruler than for a slave, found 
 himself imperiously called upon to collect together a 
 bod}' of his poor countrymen and to lead them into a 
 land of liberty and abundance. HoAvever, allowing 
 him to have had no other than his proiessed views, he, 
 after he had got a considerable number of proselytes, 
 amounting to seven or eight hundred persons, among 
 whom were a sufficienc} of good lalwurers and artizans 
 in all the essential branches of workmanship and trade, 
 besides farmers, lie embodied them into a Society, and 
 then came himself to America (not trusting to Provi- 
 dence to lead the way) to seek out the land destined 
 ibr these chosen children. Having done so, and laid 
 the plan for his route to the land ol peace and Christian 
 love, with a foresight which shows him to have been by 
 no means unmindful to the temporal prosperity of the 
 Society, he then landed his followers in separate bo- 
 dies, and prudently led them in that order to a resting 
 place within Pennsylvania, choosing rather to retard 
 their progress through the wilderness than to hazard 
 the discontent that might arise from want and fatigue
 
 Part 111.] JoDBNAL. 277 
 
 in traversing it at once. When they were all arrived, 
 Rapp constituted them into one body, having every 
 thing in common, and called the settlement Harmony. 
 This constitution he found authorised by the passage in 
 Acts, iv. 32. " And the multitude of thenj that believed 
 " were of one heart, and of one soul : neither said any 
 " of them that aught of the things he possessed Mas his 
 " own, hilt that they liad all t/iiiiys contvion." Reing 
 thus associated, the Society went to work, early in 180.5, 
 building houses and clearing lands, according to the 
 order and regulations of their leader ; but the commu- 
 nity of stock, or the regular discipline, or the restraints 
 which he had reduced them to, and which were essen- 
 tial to his project, soon began to thin his I'ollowers, and 
 principally, too, those of them who had brought most 
 substance into the society ; they demanded back their 
 original portions and set out to seek the Lord by them- 
 selves. This falling off of the society, though it was 
 but small, comparatively, in point of numbers, was a 
 great reduction from their means ; they had calculated 
 what they should want to consume, and had laid the 
 rest out in land ; so that tlie remaining part w^re sub- 
 jected 10 great hardships and difllcultios for the first 
 jear or two of their settling, vhich was during the time 
 of their greatest labours. However, it was not long 
 before they began to reap the Iruits of their toil, and 
 in the space of six or seven years their settlement be- 
 came a most flourisliing colony. During that short 
 space of time they brought into cultivation 3,000 acres 
 of land (a third of their whole estate), reared a flock of 
 nearly 2,000 sheep, and planted hop-gardens, orchards, 
 and vineyards ; built barns and siables to house their 
 crops and their live stock, granaries to keep one year's 
 produce of grain alwavs in advance, houses to make 
 their c>der, beer, and wine in, and good brick or stone 
 warehouses fur their sevfral species of goods ; con- 
 structed distilleries, mills for grinding, sawing, making 
 oil, and, indeed, for every purpose, and machines for 
 manufacturing their various materials for clothing and 
 other uses ; they had, besides, a store for retailing Phi- 
 ladelphia goods to the country, and nearly 100 good 
 dwelling-houses of wood, a large stone-built tarern,
 
 278 Journal. [Part III. 
 
 and, as a proof of superabundance, a dwelling-house 
 and a meeting-house (alias the parsonage and church) 
 which they had neatly built of brick. And, besides 
 all these improvements within the society, they did a 
 great deal of business, principally in the way of ma- 
 nufacturing, for the people of the country. They 
 worked for them with their mills and machines, some 
 of which did nothing else, and their blacksmiths, tailors, 
 shoe-makers, &c. when not employed by themselves, 
 were constantly at work for their neightsours. Thus 
 this everlastingly-at-work band of emigrants increased 
 their stock before they quitted their first colony, to up- 
 wards of two hundred thousand dollars, from, probably 
 not one fifth of that sum. What will not nnceasing 
 perseverance accomplish ? But, with judgment and 
 order to direct it^ what in the Avorld can stand against 
 it!* 
 
 520. In comparing the state of this society as it now 
 is with what it was in Pennsylvania, it is just the same 
 as to plan ; the temporal and spiritual affairs are ma- 
 naged in the same way, and upon the same principles, 
 only both are more flourishing. Rapp has here brought 
 his disciples into richer land, and into a situation bet- 
 ter in every respect, both for carrying on their trade, 
 and for keeping to their faith ; their vast extent of land 
 is, they say, four feet deep of rich mould, nearly the 
 whole of it, and it lies along the banks of a fine na- 
 vigable river on one side, while the possibility of much 
 interruption from other classes of Christians is effec- 
 tually guarded against by an endless barricado of 
 woods on the other side. Bringing the means and ex- 
 perience acquired at their first establishment, they have 
 of course gone on improving and increasing (not in 
 ])opulation} at a much greater rate. One of their 
 greatest improvements, they tell me, is the M-orking of 
 their mills and manufacturing machines by steam; 
 they feel the advantage of this more and more every 
 year. They are now preparing to build a steam-boat ; 
 this is to be employed in their traffick with New Or- 
 
 * A more detailed account of this society, up to the year 
 1811, will be found in Mr. Mclllsh's Travels, vol. 2.
 
 Part III.] Journal. 279 
 
 leans, carrying their omu surplus produce and return- 
 ing with tea, coffee, and other commodities for their 
 own consumption, and to retail to the people of the 
 country. I believe they advance, too, in the way of 
 ornaments and superfluities, for the dwelling-house 
 they have now built their pastor, more resembles a 
 Bishop's Palace than what I should figure to myself as 
 the humble abode of a teacher of the " fundamental 
 principles of the Christian Religion." 
 
 521. The government of this society is by bands, 
 each consisting of a distinct trade or calling. They 
 have a foreman to each band, who rules it under the 
 general direction of the society, the law-giving power 
 of which is in the High Priest. He cannot, however 
 make laws without the consent of the parties. The 
 manufacturing establishment, and the mercantile af- 
 fairs and public accounts are all managed by one 
 person ; he, I believe, is one of the sons of Rapp. 
 They have a bank, where a separate account is kept 
 for each person; if any one puts in money, or has put 
 in money, he may on certain conditions as to time, 
 take it out again. They labour and possess in com- 
 mon ; that is to say, except where it is not practicable 
 or is immaterial, as with their houses, gardens, cows 
 and poultry, which they have to themselves, each fa- 
 mily. They also retain what property each may bring 
 on joining the concern, and he may demand it in case 
 of leaving the societ}', but ivithout interest. 
 
 522. Here is certainly a wonderful example of the 
 effects of skill, industry, and force combined. This con- 
 gregation of far-seeing, ingenious, crafty, and bold, and 
 of ignorant, simple, superstitious, and obedient, Ger- 
 raajis, has shown what may be done. But, their ex- 
 ample, I believe, ^vill generally only tend to confirm 
 this free people in their suspicion that labour is con- 
 comitant to slavery or ignorance. Instead of their im- 
 provements, and their success and prosperity altoge- 
 ther, producing admiration, if not envy, they have a 
 social dicipline, the thought of which reduces these 
 feelings to ridicule and contempt : that is to say, Avith 
 regard to the mass ; with respect to their leaders, one's 
 feelings are apt to be stronger. A fundamental of
 
 280 JouBNAr- [Part III. 
 
 their religious creed (" restraining clause," a Chan- 
 cery Lawyer would call it) requires restrictions on 
 the propagation of the species ; it orders such regula- 
 tions as are necessary to prevent children coming but 
 once in a certain number of years ; and this matter 
 is so arranged that, when they come, they come in 
 little flocks, all within the same month, perhaps, like 
 a larmer's lambs. The Law-giver here made a lia- 
 mously " restraining statute" upon the law of nature ! 
 This Avay of expounding law seems to be a main point 
 of his policy ; he by this means keeps his associates 
 from increasing to an unruly number within, while 
 more are sure not to come in Irom without ; and, I 
 really am al'raid he will go a good way towards se- 
 curing a monopoly of many great improvements in agri- 
 culture, both as to principle and method. People see 
 the fine fields of the Harmonites, but, the prospect 
 conies damped M'ith the idea of bondage and celibacy. 
 It is a curious society: was ever one heard of before 
 that did not wish to increase I This smells strong of 
 policy; some distinct view in the leaders, no doubt. 
 Who would be surprised if we were to see a still more 
 curious society by and hye ! A Society Sole ! very far 
 from improbable, if the sons of Rapp (for he has chil- 
 dren, nevertheless, as well as Parson Malthus) and the 
 Elders were to die, it not being likely that they will 
 renounce or forfeit their right to the common stock. We 
 should then have societies as well as corporations 
 vested in one person ! That would be quite a novel 
 kind of benefice! but, not the less fat. 1 question 
 whether the associated person of Mr. Rapp Mould not 
 be in possession of as fine a domain and as many good 
 things as the incorporated person of an Archbishop : 
 nay, he would rival the Pope ! But, to my journal. 
 
 523. Arrive at Princeton in the evenisig ; a good 
 part of our road lay over the fine lands of the Har- 
 monites. I understand, by the bye, that the title deeds 
 to these lands are taken in the name of Rapp and of 
 his associates. Poor associates: if they do but rebel! 
 Find the same store-keepers and tavern-keepers in 
 the same attitudes that we left them in the other day. 
 Their legs only a little higher than their heads, and
 
 Part III] Journal. 281 
 
 segars in their mouths ; a fine position for business ! 
 It puts my friend in mind of the Roman posture in 
 dininsf. 
 
 524. Jithj Srd. — At Princeton all da}-. This is a 
 pretty considerable place ; very good as to buildings ; 
 but, is too much inland to be a town of any conse- 
 quence until the inhabitants do that at home •which 
 they employ merchants and foreign manufacturers to 
 do for them. Pay 1 dollar for a set of old shoes to my 
 horse, half the price of new ones. 
 
 525. Juhj 4th. — Leave Princeton ; in the evening, 
 reach a place very appropriately called Mud-holes, 
 after riding 46 miles over lands in c;eneral very good 
 but very little cultivated, and that little very badly ; 
 the latter part of the journey in company with a 
 Mr. Jones Irom Kentucky. Xature is the agriculturist 
 here ; speculation instead of cultivation, is the order 
 of the day amongst men. We feel tlie ill effects of 
 this in the difficulty of getting oats for our horses. How- 
 ever, the evil is unavoidable, if it really can be called 
 an evil. As well might I grumble that farmers have 
 not taken possession as complain that men of capital 
 have. Labour is the thing wanted, but, to have that, 
 money must come first. This Mud-lioles Avas a sort 
 effort, not 4 years ago, for guarding against the In- 
 dians, who then committed great depredations, killing 
 whole families often, men, women and children. How^ 
 changeable are the affairs of this Morldl I have not 
 met with a single Indian in the whole course of my 
 route. 
 
 526. Juli/ ^th. — Come to Judge Chambers's, a good 
 tavern ; 35 miles. On our way, pass French Lick, a 
 srtrong spring of water impregnated Avith salt and sul- 
 phur, and called Lick from its being resorted to by 
 cattle for the salt ; close by this spring is another still 
 larger, of fine clear lime-stone water, running fast 
 enough to turn a mill. Some of the trees near the 
 Judge's exhibit a curious spectacle ; a large piece of 
 wood appears totally dead, all the leaves brown and 
 the branches broken, from being roosted upon lately 
 by an enormous multitude of pigeons. A novel sight 
 for us, unaccustomed to the abundance of the back-
 
 282 Journal. [Part III. 
 
 woods ! No tavern but this, nor house of any descrip- 
 tion, within many miles. 
 
 527. Juhj 6th. — Leave the Judge's, still in company 
 with Mr. Jones. Ride 25 miles to breakfast, not sooner 
 finding feed for our horses ; this was at the dirty log- 
 house of Mr. who has a large farm with a grist- 
 mill on it, and keeps his yard and stables ancle deep in 
 mud and Avater. If this were not one of the healthiest 
 climates in the world, he and his family must have died 
 in all this filth. About 13 miles further, come to New 
 Albany, where we stop at Mr. Jenkins's, the best tavern 
 we have found in Indiana, that at Harmony excepted. 
 
 528. Juhj 7th. — Resting at New Albany. We were 
 amused by hearing a Quaker-lady preach to the natives. 
 Her first Avords Avere " all the nations of the earth arc 
 of one blood." " So," said I to myself, " this question, 
 " AA'hich has so long perplexed philosophers, divines 
 " and physicians, is noAv set at rest!" She proceeded 
 to vent her rage with great vehemence against hireling 
 priests and the trade of preaching in general, and closed 
 with dealing out large portions of brimstone to the 
 drunkard and still larger and hotter to those who give 
 the bottle to drink. This part of her discourse pleased 
 me very much, and may be a saving to me into the bar- 
 gain ; for, the dread of everlasting roasting added to 
 my love of economy will (I think) prevent me making 
 my friends tipsy. A very efficacious sermon 1 
 
 529. July 8th. — Jenkins's is a good tavern, but it 
 entertains at a high price. Our bill Avas 6 dollars each 
 for a day and tAvo nights ; a shameful charge. Leave 
 New Albany, cross the Ohio, and pass through Louis- 
 ville in Kentucky again, on our Avay to Lexington, the 
 capital. Stop for the night at Mr. Netherton's, a good 
 taAcrn. The land hitherto is good, and the country 
 altogether healthy, if I may judge from the people Avho 
 appear more cheerful and happy than in Indiana, al- 
 ways excepting Harmony. Our landlord is the picture 
 of health and strengtli : 6 feet 4 inches high, weighs 
 300 lbs. and not fat. 
 
 530. July 9^A.— Dine at Mr. Overton's tavern, on 
 our Avay to Frankfort ; pay half a dollar each for an 
 excellent dinner, with as much brandy and butter-milk
 
 Part III.] Journal.' 283 
 
 as we chose to drink, and good feed for our horses, in 
 the afternoon we have the pleasure to be overtaken by 
 tM'o ladies on horseback, and have their agreeable com- 
 pany for a mile or tAvo. On their turning off from our 
 road we were very reluctantly obliged to refuse an 
 obliging invitation to drink tea at their house, and myself 
 the more so, as one of the ladies informed me she had 
 married a Mr. Constantine, a gentleman from my own 
 native town of Bolton, in Lancasinre. But, Ave had yet 
 so far to go, and it was getting dark. This most health- 
 ful mode of travelling is universal in the Western States, 
 and it gives me great pleasure to see it ; though, per- 
 haps, I have to thank the badness of the roads as the 
 cause. Arrive at Frankfort, apparently a thriving 
 town, on the side of tlie rough Kentucky river. The 
 houses are built chieily of biick, and the streets, I un- 
 derstand, paved Avith limestone. Limestone abounds in 
 this state, and yet the roads are not good, though better 
 than in Indiana and Ohio, for, there there are none. I 
 wonder the government of these States do not set about 
 making good roads and bridges, and even canals. I 
 pledge myself to be able to sheAv them hoAv the money 
 might be raised, and, moreover, to prove that the ex- 
 pense Avould be paid over and OA^er again in almost no 
 time. Such improvements Avould be income to the go- 
 rernments instead of expense, besides being such an 
 incalculable benefit lo the states. But, at any rate, 
 why not roads, and in this state, too, Avhich is so re- 
 markable for its qualitA of having good road materials 
 and rich land together, generally all over it ? 
 
 531. Jiihf lOth. — Leave Frankfort, and come through 
 a district of fine land, very Avell Avatered, to Lexington ; 
 stop at Mr. Keen's tavern. Had the good fortune to 
 meet Mr. Clay, Avho carried us to his house, about a 
 mile in the country. It is a beautiful residence, situated 
 near the centre of a very fine farm, Avhich is just cleared 
 and is coming into excellent cultivation. I approve of 
 Mr. Clay's method very much, especially in laying 
 down pasture. He clears aAvay all the brush or under- 
 wood, leaving timber enough to afford a sufficiency of 
 shade to the grass, which does not thriA'e here exposed 
 to the sun as in England and other such climates. By
 
 284 Journal. [Part III. 
 
 this means he has as fine grass and clover as can pos- 
 sibly grow. I could not but admire to see this gentle- 
 man, possessing so much knowledge and of so much 
 weight in his country's affairs, so attentively promoting 
 her not less important though more silent interests bv 
 improving her agriculture. What pleased me still 
 more, however, because 1 less expected it, was, to hear 
 Mr-s. Clay, in priding herself on the state of society, and 
 the rising prosperity of the country, citing as a proof 
 the decency and affluence of the trades-people and 
 mechanics at Lexington, many of ■whom ride about in 
 their own carriages. What a contrast, both in sense 
 and in sentiment, between this lady and the wives of 
 Legislators (as they are called), in the land of the 
 Boroughmongers ! God grant that no privileged batch 
 ever rise up in America, for then down come the me- 
 chanics, are harnessed themselves, and half ridden to 
 death. 
 
 532. Juhj Wth. — This is the hottest day we have 
 had yet. Thermometer at 90 degrees, in shade. Met 
 a Mr. Wbittemore, from Boston, loud in the praise of 
 this climate. He informed me he had lately lost his w ife 
 and five children near Boston, and that he should have 
 lost his only remaining child, too, a son now stout and 
 healthy, had he not resolved instantly to try the air of 
 the west. He is confident that if he had taken this 
 step in time he might have saved the lives of all his 
 family. Tliis might be, however, and yet this climate 
 not better than that of Boston. Spent the evening with 
 Colonel Morrison, one of the first settlers in this stale ; 
 a fine looking old gentleman, with colour in his face 
 equal to a London Alderman. The people hero, are 
 pretty generally like that portion of the people of 
 England who get porridge enough to eat ; stout, fat, 
 and ruddy. 
 
 533. Jiilij \2th. — Hotter than yesterday; thermo- 
 meter at 91 degrees. 
 
 534. July 13M. — Leave Lexington; stop at Paris, 
 22 miles. A finex^ountry all the way ; good soil, plenty 
 of limestone and no musquitoes. Paris is a healthy 
 town, with a good deal of stir ; woollen and cotton ma- 
 nufactures are carried on here, but upon a small .«cale,
 
 Part III.] Journal. ' 285 
 
 They are not near enough to good coal mines to do 
 much in that way. What they do, however, is well 
 paid for. A spinner told me he gets 83 cents per lb. 
 lor his twist, which is 33 cents more than it would fetch 
 at New York. Stop at Mr. Timberlake's, a good house. 
 The bar-keeper, who comes from England, tells me 
 that he sailed to Canada, but he is glad he had the 
 means to leave Canada and come to Kentucky ; he has 
 300 dollars a year, and board and lodging. Made en- 
 quiry after young Watson, but find he has leit thi» 
 place and is gone to Lexington. 
 
 535. The following is a list of the wages and prices 
 of the most essential branches of workmanship and 
 articles of consumption, as they are here at present. 
 
 Journeymen saddlers' price for du.cu. discis; 
 
 drawing on men's saddles ... «l 25 to 2 50 
 
 Journeymen blacksmiths, per day 1 . . — 1 25 
 
 — Per month 25 . . — 30 
 
 Journeymen hatters (casters) ... 1 25 . — 
 
 Ditto, rorum 1 . . — 
 
 Ditto for finishing, per month, 
 
 and found 30 . . — 
 
 Journeymen shoe-makers (coarse ) . . 75 — 
 
 Ditto, ^/ic , .', 1 25 — 
 
 Ditto, for boots 3 25 — 
 
 Journeymen tailors, by the coat 5 . . — 
 Stone-masons or bricklayers, per 
 
 day 1 . . _ 1 50 
 
 Carpenters, per day, and found 1 . . — 
 
 Salary for a clerk, per annum . . 200 . . — 500 
 
 Beef, per 100 lbs. . , • 6 .. — 
 
 Flour, per barrel 6 . . — 
 
 536. July I4th. — Hot again ; 90 degrees. Ar- 
 rive at Blue Licks, close by the fine Licking Creek, 
 22 miles from Paris. Here is a sulphur and salt spring 
 like that at French Lick in Indiana, which makes this a 
 place of great resort in summer for the fashionable 
 
 * Or 5s. Tjd. to lly. 3d. sterling. At the present rate of ex- 
 change, a dollar is equivalent to 45. Gd, sterling, and a cent is 
 the hundredth part of a dollar.
 
 286 Journal. [Part III. 
 
 swallowers of mineral waters ; the three or four taverns 
 are at this time completely crowded. Salt was made 
 till latterly at this spring, by an old Scotsman ; he now 
 attends the ferry across the Creek. Not much to be said 
 for the country round here ; it is stony and barren, what 
 I have not seen before in Kentucky. 
 
 537. July \X>th. — To Maysville, or Lime-stone, 24 
 miles. This is a place on the banks of the Ohio, and 
 is a sort of port for shipping down the river to a great 
 part of that district of the state for which Louisville is 
 the shipping port to and from New Orleans. Still hot ; 
 90 degrees again. This is the fifth day ; rather unusual, 
 this continuance of heat. The hot spells as well as the 
 cold spells, seldom last more than three days, prelt}' 
 generally in America. 
 
 538. July \%th. — Hot still, but a fine breeze blowing 
 up the river.' Not a bit too hot for me, but the natives 
 say it is the hottest weather they recollect in this coun- 
 try ; a proof to me that this is a mild climate, as to heat, 
 at any rate. Saw a cat-fish in the market, just caught 
 out of the river by a hook and line, 4 feet long and 
 eighty pounds weiglit, offered for 2 dollars. Price of 
 flour, 6 dollars a barrel ; fresh beef, 6| cents, and 
 butter 20 cents per lb. 
 
 539. July YIth. — Set out again, crossing the Ohio 
 into the state of that name, and take the road to Chilli- 
 cothe, 74 miles from Maysville. Stop about mid-way 
 for the night, travelling over a country generally hilly, 
 and not of good soil, and passing through West Union, 
 a place situated as a town ought to be, upon high and 
 unlevel lands ; the inhabitants have fine air to breathe, 
 and plenty of food to eat and drink, and, if they keep 
 their houses and streets and themselves clean, I will 
 ensure them long lives. Some pretty good farms in 
 view of the road, but many abandoned for the richer 
 lands of Indiana and Illinois. Travelling expenses 
 much less, hitherto, than in Indiana and some parts of 
 Kentucky ; we had plenty of good buttermilk at the 
 farm-houses all along the road, free of expense, and the 
 tavern-keepers do not set before us bread made of 
 Indian corn, which we have not yet learned to like very 
 cordially.
 
 Part III.'} Journal. 287 
 
 540. Juli/ 18^A.— 'Come to Chillicothe, the country 
 improving and more e\en as we proceed. See some 
 very rich lands on passing Paint Creek, and on ap- 
 
 f)roaching the Scioto river; these, like all the bottom 
 ands, having a coat of sediment from their river in ad- 
 dition to the original soil, are by far the richest. Chil- 
 licothe is a handsome tOMn, regularly laid out, but 
 stands upon a flat. I hate the very sight of a level 
 street, unless there be every thing necessary to carry 
 off all filth and water. The air is very fine, so far as it 
 is not contaminated by the pools of water which stand 
 about the town as green as grass. Main sewers, like 
 those at Philadelphia, are much wanted. 
 
 541. July \9th. — Called upon Mr. Bond, beino- in- 
 troduced by letter, and spent a very pleasant evening 
 Mith him and a large party of his agreeable friends. 
 Left them, much pleased with the society of Chillicothe. 
 
 542. July 2,0th. — We were introduced to Governor 
 Worthington, who lives about 2 miles from the town. 
 He took us to his house, and showed us part of his fine 
 estate, Avhich is 800 acres in extent, and all of it ele- 
 vated table land, commanding an immense view over 
 the flat country in the direction of Lake Erie. The 
 soil is very rich indeed; so rich, that the Governor 
 pointed out a dung heap which was bigger than the 
 Darn it surrounded and had grown out of, as a nuisance. 
 The labour of dragging the dung out of the way, would 
 be more than the cost of removing the barn, so that he 
 is actually going to pull the barn down, and build it up 
 again in another place. This is not a peculiarity of 
 this particidar spot of land, for manure has no value 
 here at all. All the stable-dung made at ChiHicothe 
 is flung into the river. 1 dare say, that the Inn we put 
 up at does not tumble into the water less than 300 good 
 loads of horse-dung every 3 ear. 
 
 543. I had some conversation with Governor Wor- 
 thington on the subject of domestic manufactures, and 
 was glad to find he is well convinced of the necessity 
 of, or at least of the great benefit that would result 
 from, the general est^iblishment of them in the United 
 States. He has frequently recommended it in hi.s 
 public capacity, he informed me, and I hope he will
 
 288 Journal. [Part III. 
 
 advocate it with effect. He is a true lover of his 
 country, and no man that I have met with has a more 
 thorough knowledge of the detestable villa;iy of the 
 odious Boroughmongering government of England, 
 and, of course, it has his full share of hatred. 
 
 544. Jahi 21sf. — Leave Chillicothe. A fine, healthy 
 country and very rich land all the Avay to New Lan- 
 caster, 34 miles from Chillicothe, and 38 from Zanes- 
 ville. Stop at the house of a German, where we slept, 
 but not in bed, preferring a soft board and something 
 clean for a pillow to a bed of down accompanied with 
 bugs. 
 
 545. Nothing remarkable, that I can see, as to the 
 locality of this town of New Lancaster ; but, the name, 
 alas ! it brought to my recollection the horrid deeds 
 done at Old Lancaster, the county town of my native 
 
 country! I thought of Colonel F r, and his 
 
 conduct towards my poor, unfortunate townsman, Gal- 
 lant ! I thought of the poor, miserable creatures, men, 
 women, and children, who, in the bloody year of 1812, 
 were first instigated by spies to commit arson, and then 
 pursued into death by the dealers in human blood. 
 Amongst the sufferers, upon this particular occasion, 
 there was a boy, who was silly, and who would, at any 
 time, have jumped into a pit for a halfpenny : he 
 was not fourteen years old ; and when he was about to 
 be hanged, actually called out for his " mammy" to 
 come and save him ! AVho, that has a heart in his 
 bosom, can help feeling indignation against the cruel 
 monsters ! Who can help feeling a desire to see their 
 dreadful power destroyed ! The day must come, when 
 the whole of the bloody tragedies of Lancashire will 
 be exposed. In the mean while, here I am in safety 
 from the fangs of the monsters, who oppress and grind 
 my countrymen. The thought of these oppressions, 
 however, I carry about with me ; and I cannot help 
 its sometimes bursting forth into >vords. 
 
 546. July 227id. — Arrive at Zanesville,* a place 
 
 * For a more particular account of this place, as well, in- 
 deed, as of most of the other towns I have visited, see Mr. 
 MellisU's Travels, vol. ii.
 
 Part III,] Journal. 289 
 
 finely situated for manufactures, in a nook of the 
 Muskinghaui, just opposite to the mouth of Licking 
 Creek. It has ahnost every advantage for manu- 
 facturing of all sorts, both as to local situation and as 
 to materials ; it excels Wheehng and Steubenville, in 
 many respects, and, in some, even Pittsburgh. The 
 river gives very fine falls near the town, one of them 
 of 12 feet, where it is 600 feet wide ; the creek, too, 
 falls in by a fine cascade. What a power for ma- 
 chinery ! I should think that as much effect might be 
 produced by the power here afforded as by the united 
 manual labour of all the inliabitants of the state. The 
 navigation is very good all the way up to the town, and 
 is now continued round the falls by a canal with locks, 
 so that boats can go nearly close up to Lake Erie. 
 The bowels of the earth afford coal, iron ore, stone, 
 free stone, lime-stone, and claj/s : all of the best, 
 I beheve, and the last, the very best yet discovered in 
 this country, and, perhaps, as good as is to be found 
 in any country. All these materials are ibund in ine.\- 
 haustible quantities in the hills and little ridges on the 
 sides of the river and creek, arranged as if placed by 
 the hand of man for his own use. In short, this place 
 has the four elements in the greatest perfi?ction that I 
 have any where } et seen in America. As to manu- 
 factures, it is, like Wheeling and Steubenville, nothing 
 in comparison to Pittsburg. 
 
 547. Nature has done her part ; nothing is left want- 
 ing but machines to enable the people of Ohio to keep 
 their flour at home, instead of exporting it, at their 
 own expense, to support those abroad who are indus- 
 trious enough to send them back coats, knives, and 
 cups and saucers. 
 
 548. Jiilif IBnl. — All day at Zanesville. Spent 
 part of it very agreeably with Mr. Adams the post- 
 master, and old Mr. Dillon who has a large iron foun- 
 dery near this. 
 
 549. Julif 2ith.—Go with IMr. Dillon about 3 miles 
 up the Creek, to see his mills and iron-foctory es- 
 tablishment. He has here a very fine water-fall, of 
 18 feet, giving immense power, by which be works a 
 
 O
 
 290 Journal. [Part III. 
 
 large iron-forge and foundery, and mills for sawing, 
 grinding, and other purposes. 
 
 550. I will here subjoin a list of the prices at 
 
 Zanesville, of provisions, stock, stores, labour, &c. 
 just as 1 have it from a resident, whom I can rely 
 upon. 
 
 riour (superfine) per barrel of dis. cts. dis. ct». 
 
 196 lbs. from 5 to 5 75 
 
 Beef, per 100 lbs 4 — 4 25 
 
 Pork (prime) , per 100 lbs 4 50 — 5 
 
 Salt, per bushel of 60 lbs 2 25 
 
 Potatoes, per bushel 25 — 3H 
 
 Turnips, ditto 20 
 
 Wheat, ditto of 60 lbs. to 66 lbs. 75 
 
 Indian Cora, ditto, shelled 33,} — 50 
 
 Oats, ditto 25 — 33i 
 
 Rye, ditto 50 
 
 Barley, ditto 75 
 
 Turkeys, of from 12 lbs. to 20 lbs. 
 
 each 37 1 — 60 
 
 Fowls 12|^ — 18^ 
 
 Live Hogs, per 100 lbs. live 
 
 weight 3 — 5 
 
 Cows, (the best) 18 — 25 
 
 Yoke of Oxen, ditto 50 — 75 
 
 Sheep 2 60 
 
 Hay, per ton, delivered 9 — 10 
 
 Straw, fetch it and have it. 
 
 Manure, ditto, ditto. 
 
 Coals, per bushel, dehvered, ... 08 
 
 Butter, per lb. avoirdupois .... 12^ — 18*- 
 
 Cheese, ditto, ditto 12i — 25 
 
 Loaf Sugar 50' 
 
 Raw ditto 31^ 
 
 Domestic Raw ditto 18J 
 
 Merino Wool, per lb. avoirdupois, 
 
 washed . ^^ 1 
 
 Three-quarter Merino ditto .... 75 
 
 Common Wool 50 
 
 Bricks, per 1000, delivered .... 60 — 70 
 
 Lime, per bushel, ditto, ..,,,.. I8f
 
 Part III.] Journal. 291 
 
 Sand, in abundance on the banks dis. cts. dis. ct«. 
 of the river. 
 
 Glass is sold in boxes, containing 
 lOl) square feet ; of the com- 
 mon size there are 180 panes 
 in a box, when the price is . . 14 
 
 The price rises in proportion to 
 the size of the panes 
 
 Oak planks, 1 inch thick, per 
 
 100 square feet, at the saw-mill 1 50 
 
 Poplar, the same. 
 
 White Lead, per 100 lbs. de- 
 livered 17 
 
 Red ditto 17 
 
 Litharge 15 
 
 Pig Lead 9 50 
 
 Swedish Iron (the best, in bars) 14 
 
 Juniatta, ditto, ditto 14 
 
 Mr. Dillon's ditto, ditto 12 50 
 
 Castings at Mr. Dillon's Foundery, 
 per ton 120 
 
 Ditto,for machinery, ditto, per lb. 8 
 
 Potash, per ton 180 
 
 Pearl Ashes, ditto 200 
 
 Stone masons and bricklayers, 
 
 per day, and board and lodging I 50 
 
 Plasterers, by the square yard, 
 they finding themselves in board 
 ami lodging and in lime, sand, 
 laths and every thing they use. 18| 
 
 Carpenters, by the day, who 
 find themselves and bring their 
 tools 1 25 
 
 Blacksmiths, by the month, and 
 found in board, lodging and 
 tools ao to 40 
 
 Millwrights, per day, finding 
 
 themselves 1 50 — 2 
 
 Tailors, per week, finding them- 
 selves and working 14 or 15 
 hours a day 7 ~ 9 
 
 Shoemakers, the same. 
 
 02
 
 292 Journal. [Part 111. 
 
 Glazier's charge for putting in dis. cts. dis. cts. 
 
 each pane of glass 8 in. by 
 
 10 in. Mith their own putty 
 
 and laying on the first coat of 
 
 paint . "! 4 to 5 
 
 Labourers, per annum, and found 100 — 120 
 The charge of carriage for 100 
 
 lbs. weight from Baltimore to 
 
 Zanesville 10 
 
 Ditto for ditto by steam-boat from 
 
 New Orleans to JShippingport, 
 
 and thence, by boats, to Zanes- 
 
 ville, about 6 50 
 
 Peaches, as fine as can grow, per 
 
 bushel 121 — 25 
 
 Apples and Pears proportionably cheaper; sometimes 
 
 given away, in the country. 
 
 551. Prices are much about the same at Steuben- 
 ville ; if any difference, rather lower. If bought in a 
 quantity, some of the articles enumerated might be had 
 a good ileal lower. Labour, no doubt, if a job of some 
 length were offered, might be got somewhat cheaper, 
 here. 
 
 5.52. Juhj 2bth. — Leave Zanesville for Pittsburg, 
 keeping to the United States road ; stop at Cambridge, 
 25 miles. During the first eight miles we met 10 
 wagons, loaded with emigrants. 
 
 553. Julij l^tli. — Stop at Mr, Broadshaw's, a very 
 good house on the road, 25 miles from Cambridge. 
 This general government road is by no means well laid 
 out; it goes straight over the tops of the numerous 
 little hills, up and down, up and down. It would have 
 been a great deal neJ^rer in point of time, if not in dis- 
 tance (though I think it would that, too), if a view had 
 been had to the labour of travelling over these everlast- 
 ing unevennesses. 
 
 554. J all/ 27 th. — To Wheeling in Virginia, 31 miles. 
 They have had tremendous rains in these parts, we 
 hear as we pass along, lately ; one of the creeks we 
 came over has overflown so as to carry down a man's 
 bouse with himself and his whole family. A dreadful 
 catastrophe, but, certainly, one not out of the man's
 
 Part III.] Journal. 293 
 
 power lo have foreseen and prevented ; it surprises' 
 me that the people will stick up their houses so near 
 the water's edge. Cross Wheelin<; Creek several times 
 to-day ; it is a rapid stream, and I hope it will not be 
 long before it turns man}- water-wheels. See much 
 good land, and some pretty good farming. 
 
 555. July 'liith. — Went with a Mr. Graham., a 
 Quaker of t!u"s place, who treated us in tlie most friendly 
 and hospitable manner, to see the new national road 
 from Washington city to this town. It is covered with 
 a very thick layer of nicely broken stones, or stone, 
 rather, laid on with great exactness both as to depth 
 and width, and tlien rolled down Avith an iron roller, 
 which reduces all to one solid mass. This is a road 
 made for ever ; not like the flint roads in England, 
 rough, nor soft or dirty, like the gravel roads; but, 
 smooth and hard. When a road is made in ximerica 
 it is tccll made. An American always ])lots against 
 labour, and, in this instance, he takes the most ef- 
 fectual course to circumvent it. Mr. Graham took us 
 like'\\ise to see the fine coal mines near this place and 
 
 tlio botla uC linicotunc nnd iVccatonp, Hone of which I 
 
 had time to examine as we passed Wheeling in our 
 ark. All these treasures lie very convenient to the 
 river. The coals are principally in one long ridge, 
 about ten feet wide ; much the same as they are at 
 Pittsburgh, in point of quality and situation. They 
 cost 3 cents per bushel to be got out from the mine. 
 This price, as nearly as 1 can calculate, enables the 
 American collier to earn, upon an average, double the 
 number of cents for the same labour that the collier in 
 England can earn ; so that, as the American collier 
 can, upon an average, buy his (lour for one third of 
 the price that the English collier pays for his flour, he 
 receives six times the quantity of pour for the same 
 labour. Here is a country for the ingenious pau])ers 
 of England to come to ! They find food and materials, 
 and nothing wanting but their mouths and hands to 
 consume and work them. I should like to see the old 
 toast of tlie Boroughmongers brought out again ; when 
 they were in the height of their impudence their myr- 
 midons used to din in our ears, " Old England for
 
 294 Journal. [Part III. 
 
 " ever, and those that do not like her let them leave 
 " her." Let them renew this swaggering toast, and 1 
 would very willingly for my part, give another to the 
 same effect for the United States of America. But, 
 no, no ! they know better now. They know that they 
 would be taken at their word ; and, like the tyrants of 
 Egypt, having got their slaves fast, will (if they can) 
 keep them so. Let them beware, lest something worse 
 than the Red Sea overwhelm them ! Like Pharaoh 
 and his Boroughmongers they will not yield to the voice 
 of the people, and, surely, something like, or worse 
 than, their fate shall befall themi 
 
 556. They are building a steam-boat at Wheeling, 
 which is to go, they say, 1800 miles up the Missouri 
 river. The wheels ai^e made to worli in the stem of 
 the boat, so as not to come in contact with the floating 
 trees, snaggs, planters,* &c., obstructions most likely- 
 very numerous in that river. But, the placing the 
 wheels behind only saves them; it is no protection 
 against the boat's sinking in case of being pierced by 
 a planter or sawyer. f Observing this, I will suggest 
 a plan which has occurred to me, and which, 1 think, 
 would provide against siiiking, effccUmllj , bui, ot miy 
 
 rate, it is one which can be tried very easily and with 
 very little expense. — I would make a partition of strong 
 plank; put ii in the broadest fore-part of the boat, 
 right across, and put good iron bolts under the bottom 
 of the boat, through these planks, and screw them on 
 the top of the deok. Then put an upright post in the 
 inside of the boat against the middle of the ])]ank par- 
 tition, and put a spur to the upright post. The parti- 
 tion should be water-tight. 1 would then load the 
 Ibrepart of the boat, thus ])artitioned off with lumber 
 or such loading as is least liable to injury, and best 
 calculated to stop the progress of a sawyer after it has 
 gone through the boat. — By thus appropriating the 
 fore-part of the boat to the reception of planters and 
 sawyers, it appears to me that the other part would be 
 secured ajfainst all intrusion. 
 
 * Trees tumbled head-long and fixed in the river, 
 t The same as the planter, only waving up and down.
 
 Part III.] Journal. 295 
 
 557. July 2Qth. — From Wheeling, through Charls- 
 ton, chaiiging sides of the river again to Steubenville. 
 My eyes were delighted at Charlston to see the smoke 
 of the coals ascending from the glass-works they have 
 here. This smoke it is that must enrich America ; she 
 might save almost all her dollars if she would but 
 bring her invaluable black diamonds into service. Talk 
 of independence, indeed, without coats to wear or knives 
 or plates to eat with ! 
 
 558. At Steubenville, became acquainted with 
 Messrs. Wills, Ross, and company, who have an ex- 
 cellent and well-conducted woollen manufactory here. 
 They make very good cloths, and at reasonable prices ; 
 I am sorry they (lo not retail them at Philadelphia ; 
 J, lor one, should be customer to them for all tliat my 
 family wanted in the woollen-way. Here are likewise 
 a Cotton-mill, a Grist-mill, a Paper-mill, an Iron- 
 foundery and Tan-yards and Breweries. Had the 
 pleasure to see Mr. Wilson, the editor of the Steuben- 
 ville Gazette, a very public-spirited man, and, I be- 
 lieve, very serviceable to this part of the country^. It' 
 the policy he so powerfully advocates were adopted, 
 the effects would be grand for America ; it would save 
 her dollars while it would help to draw the nails of the 
 vile Boroughmongers. But, he has to labour against 
 the inveterate effects of the thing the most difficult of 
 all others to move — habit. 
 
 559. By what I have been able to observe of this part 
 of the country, those who expect to find what is gene- 
 rally understood by sociefif, pretty much the same that 
 they have been accustomed to it on the Atlantic side, 
 or ia England, will not be totally disappointed. It is 
 here upon the basis of the same manners and customs 
 as in the oldest settled districts, and it there differs 
 from what it is in England, and here from what it is 
 there, only according to circumstances. Few of the 
 social amusements that are practicable at present, are 
 scarce ; dancing the most rational for every reason, is 
 the most common ; and, in an assemblage f jr this pur- 
 pose, composed of the farmers' daughters and sons 
 from 20 miles round, an Englishman (particularly if 
 a young one) might very well think his travels to be
 
 296 Journal. [Part III. 
 
 all a dream, and that he was still in a Boroughmonger 
 country. Almost always the same tunes and dances, 
 same manners, same dress. Ah, it is that same dress 
 which is the great evil ! It may be a very pretty sight, 
 but, to see the dollars thus danced out of the country 
 into the hands of the Boroughmongers, to the tune of 
 national airs, is a thing which, if it do not warrant ridi- 
 cule, will, if America do not, by one unanimous voice, 
 soon put a stop to it 
 
 560. July 30t/i. — From Stubenville, crossing the 
 Ohio for the last time, and travelling through a slip 
 of Virginia and a handsome part of Pennsylvania, to 
 Pittsburgh. 
 
 561. August 1st. — Sold ray horse for 75 dollars, 
 60 dollars less than I gave for him. A horse changes 
 masters no where so often as in this Western country, 
 and no where so olten rises and falls in value. Met 
 a Mr. Gibbs, a native of Scotland, and an old neigh- 
 bour of mine, having superintended some oil of A^triol 
 works near to my bleach-works on Great Lever, near 
 Bolton, in Lancashire. He now makes oil of vitriol, 
 aquafortis, salt, soap, &c. at this place, and is, I be- 
 lieve, getting rich. Spent a pleasant evening with him. 
 
 562. August 2nd. — Spent most part of the day 
 •with Mr. Gibbs, and dined with him ; as the feast was 
 his, I recommended him to observe the latter part of 
 the good Quaker Lady's sermon which we heard at 
 New Albany. 
 
 563. August 3rd. — Leave Pittsburgh, not without 
 some regret at bidding adieu to so much activity and 
 smoke, for I expect not to see it elsewhere. I like to 
 contemplate the operation by which the greatest effect 
 is produced in a country. Take the same route and 
 the same stage as on setting out from Philadelphia. 
 
 564. August 4th, ^th, and Gth. — These three days 
 traversing the romantic iVllegany Mountains ; got over- 
 turned (a common accident here) only once, and then 
 received very little damage : myself none, some of my 
 fellow travellers a few scratches. We scrambled out, 
 and, with the help of some wagoners, set the vehicle 
 on its wheels again, adjusted our " plunder" (as some 
 of the Western people call it), and drove on again
 
 Part III.J Journal. 29T 
 
 without being detained more than five minutes. The 
 fourth night slept at Chambersburgh, the beginning of 
 a fine country. 
 
 565. August 7th. — Travelled over the fine lime-stones 
 A^alley before mentioned, and through a very good coun- 
 try ail the way, by Little York to Lancaster. Here 
 I met with a person from Philadelphia, wiio told me 
 a long story about a Mr. Hulwe, an Englishman, who 
 had brought a large family and considerable property 
 to America. Ills property, he told me, the said 
 Mr. Hulme had got from the English Government, for 
 the invention of some macliine, and that now, having 
 got rich under their patronage, he Mas going about thi.s 
 country doing the said Government all the mischief he 
 could, and endeavouring to promote the interest of 
 this country. After letting him go on till I was (juite 
 satisfied that he depends mainly for his bread and but- 
 ter upon the English Treasm-y, I said, " Well, do you 
 " know this Mr. Hulme ?" "No, he had only heard of 
 " him." " Then I do, and I know that he never had 
 " any patent, nor ever asked for one, from the En- 
 " glish government ; all he has got he has gained by 
 " his own industry and economy, and, so far frosn re- 
 " ceiving a fortune froiu that vile govermnent, he had 
 " nothing to do with it but to pay and obey, without 
 " being allovved to give a vote fir a Member of Par- 
 " liament or for any Government officer. He is now, 
 " thank God, in a co'.mtry M'here he cannot be taxed 
 " but by his own consent, and, if he should succeed 
 " in contributing in any degree to the downfall of the 
 *' English Government, and to the improvement of 
 " tins country, he will only succee"^ in doing his duty." 
 This man could be no other than a dependent of that 
 boroughmongering system which has its feelers probing 
 every quarter and corner of the earth. 
 
 566. August Sth. — Return to Philadelphia, after a 
 journey of 72 days. My expenses for this journey, 
 including every thing, not excepting the loss sustained 
 by the purchase and sale of my horse, amount to 270 
 dollars and 70 cents. 
 
 567. As it is now about a twelvemonth since I have 
 
 O 5
 
 298 Journal. [Part III. 
 
 been settled in Philadelphia, or set foot in it, rather, 
 with my family, I will take a look at my books, and 
 add to this Journal what have been the expenses of my 
 family i'or this one year, from the time of landing to 
 this day, inclusive. 
 
 '' Dolls. Cents. 
 
 House-rent tiOO O 
 
 Fuel . • 137 
 
 Schooling (at day-schools) for my 
 children viz.; for Thomas, 14 doIIs. 
 
 years of age 40 
 
 Peter and John, ages of 12 and 10 48 
 
 Sarah, 6 years of age 18 — 106 
 
 Boarding of all my family at Mrs. An- 
 thony's Hotel for about a week, on our 
 
 arrival 80 
 
 Expenses of house-keeping (my family 
 fourteen in number, including two ser- 
 vants) with every other out-going not 
 enumerated above, travelling inci- 
 dents, two newspapers a day, &c. &c. 2076 66 
 
 Taxes, not a cent 
 
 Priest, not a cent 
 
 Total 2999 66 
 
 568, " What! nothing to the Parson !" some of my 
 old neighbours will exclaim. No : not a single stiver. 
 The Quakers manage their affairs without Parsons, and 
 I believe they are as good and as happy a people as 
 any religious denomination who are aided and assisted 
 by a Priest. I do not suppose that the Quakers will 
 admit me into their Society ; but, in this free country 
 I can form a new society, if I choose, and, if I do, it 
 certainly shall be a Society having a Chairman in 
 place of a Parson, and the assemblage shall discuss 
 the subject of their meeting themselves. Why should 
 there not be as much knowledge and wisdom and com- 
 mon sense, in the heads of a whole congregation, as in 
 the head of a Parson I Ah, but then there are the 
 profits arising from the trade ! Some of this holy Or- 
 der in England receive upwards of 40,000 dollars per
 
 Part III.] Journal. 299 
 
 annum for preaching probably not more than five or 
 six sermons during the whole year. Well may the 
 Cossack Priests represent Old England as the bul- 
 wark of religion ! This is the sort of religion they so 
 much dreaded the loss of during the French Revolu- 
 tion , and this is the sort of religion they so zealously 
 expected to establish in America, when they received 
 the glad tidings of the restoration of the Bourbons and 
 the Pope. 
 
 END OF VUE JOURNAL.
 
 300 Letter to [Part HI. 
 
 TO 
 
 MORRIS BIRKBECK, Esq. 
 
 OF 
 
 ENGLISH PRAIRIE, ILLINOIS TERRITORY. 
 
 North Hempstead, Long Island, 
 MY DEAR SIR, 10 Dec. 1818. 
 
 569. I HAVE read your two little books, namely, 
 the " Notes on a Journey in America" " and the Let- 
 " ters from the Illinois." 1 opened the books, and I 
 proceeded in the perusal, with ^ear and trembling ; not 
 because I supposed it possible for you to put forth an 
 intended imposition on the world ; but, because 1 had 
 a sincere respect for the character and talents of the 
 writer ; and because I knew how enchanting and de- 
 lusive are the prospects of enthusiastic minds, when 
 bent on grand territorial acquisitions. 
 
 570. My apprehensions were, I am sorry to haA'e 
 it to say, but too well founded. Your books, written, 
 i am sure, without any intention to deceive and decoy, 
 and without any, even the smallest, tincture of base sell- 
 interest, are, in my opinion, calcvdated to produce 
 great disappointment, not to say misery and ruin, 
 amongst our own country people (for I will, in spile 
 of your disaA'owal, still claim the honour of having you 
 for a countryman), and great injury to America by send- 
 ing back to Europe accounts of that disappointment, 
 misery, and ruin. 
 
 571. It is very true, that you decline advising any 
 one to go to the Illixois, and it is also true, that your 
 description of the hardships you encountered is very 
 candid ; but still, there runs throughout the whole of 
 yoiir Notes such an account as to the prospect, that 
 is to say, the tdtimate effect, that the book is, without 
 your either wishing or perceiving it, calculated to de-
 
 Part III.] Morris Birkbeck, Esq. 301 
 
 ceive and decoy, You do indeed describe difficulties 
 and hardships : but, then, you overcome thera all with 
 so much ease and 2;aiety, that you make them disre- 
 garded by your English readers, who, sitting by their 
 fire-side, and leehng nothing but the gripe of the Bo- 
 roughmongers and the tax-gatherer, merely cast a 
 glance at your hardships and fully participate in all 
 your enthusiasm. You do indeed fairly describe the 
 rugged roads, the dirty hovels, the fire in the woods to 
 sleep by, the pathless ways througli the wildernesses, 
 the dangerous crossings of the rivers ; but, there are 
 the beautiful meadows and rich lands at last ; there is 
 the Jine freehold domain at ike end! There are the 
 giants and the enchanters to encounter ; the slashings 
 and the rib-roastings to undergo ; but then, there is, 
 at last, the lovely languishing damsel to repay the 
 adventurer. 
 
 572. The whole of your writings relative to your 
 undertaking, address theniselves directly to English 
 Farmei's, who have property to the amount of two or 
 throe thousand pounds, or upAvards. Persons of this 
 description are, not by your express words, but by the 
 natural tendency of your writings, invited, nay, strongly 
 invited, to emigrate with their property to the Illinois 
 Territory. Many have already acted upon the invita- 
 tion. Many others are about to follow them. I am 
 convinced, that their doing this is unwise, and greatly 
 injurious, not only to them, but to the character of 
 America as a country to emigrate to, and, as I have, 
 in the first Part of this Avork, promised to give, as far 
 as 1 am able, a true account of America, it is my duty 
 to state the jvosoms on which this conviction is founded ; 
 and, I address the statement to you, in order, that, if 
 you find it erroneous, you may, in the like public man- 
 ner, show wherein I have committed error. 
 
 573. We are speaking, my dear Sir, of English 
 Farmers possessing each two or tln-ee thousand pounds 
 sterling. And, before we proceed to enquire, whether 
 such persons ought to emigrate to tlic West or to the 
 East, it may not be amiss to enquire a little, whether 
 they ought to emir/rate at all! Do not start, now! For 
 while I am very certain that the emigration of suc/t
 
 302 Letter to [Part III. 
 
 2)erso7is is not, in the end, calculated to produce bene- 
 fit to America, as a nation, I greatly doubt of its bein^, 
 cieneralh) speaking, of any benefit to the emigrants them- 
 selves, if we take into view the chances of their speedy 
 relief at home. 
 
 574. Persons of advanced age, of settled habits, of 
 deep rooted prejudices, of settled acquaintances, of con- 
 tracted sphere of movement, do not, to use Mr. George 
 Flower's expression, " transplant well." Of all such 
 persons. Farmers transplant worst ; and, of all Farmers, 
 English Farmers are the worst to transplant. Of some 
 oi^^c tears, shed in the Illinois, an account reached 
 me several months ago, through an eye-witness of per- 
 fect veracity, and a very sincere friend of freedom, 
 and of you, and whose information was given me, un- 
 asked for, and in the presence of several Englishmen, 
 every one of whom, as well as myself, most ardently 
 wished your success. 
 
 575. It is nothing, my dear Sir, to say, as you do, 
 in the Preface to the Letters from the Illinois, that, as 
 " httle would I encourage the emigration of the tribe of 
 " ^m/ft6Zejs, people who are petulant and discontented 
 ♦' under the every-dai/ evils of life. Life has its petty 
 " miseries in all situations and climates, to be miti- 
 " gated or cured by the continual efforts of an elastic 
 " spirit, or to be borne, if incurable, with cheerful pa- 
 " tience. But the peevish emigrant is perpetually 
 " comparing the comforts he has quitted, but never 
 *' could enjoy, with the privations of his new allotment. 
 " He overlooks the present good, and broods over the 
 " evil with habitual perverseness ; wliilst in the recol- 
 " lection of the past, he dwells on the good only. Such 
 " people are always bad associates, but they are an 
 " especial nuisance in an infant colony." 
 
 576. Give me leave to say, my dear Sir, that there 
 is too much asperitij in this language, considering who 
 were the objects of the censure. Nor do you appear 
 to me to afford, in this instance, a very happy illustra- 
 tion of the absence of that peevishness, which you per- 
 ceive in others, and for the yielding to which you call 
 thetn a nuisance ; an appellation much too harsh lor 
 the object and for the occasion. If you, with all your
 
 Part III.] MoKBis Bibkbeck, Esq. 303 
 
 elasticity of spirit, all your ardour of pursuit, all your 
 compensations of Ibrtune in prospect, and all your gra- 
 tifications of fame in possession, cannot with patience 
 hear the wailings of some of your neighbours, into 
 what source are they to dip for the waters of content 
 and good-humour ? 
 
 577. It is no" cvevy-day evil" that they have to bear. 
 For an English Farmer," and, more especially, an En- 
 glish Farmer's wife, after crossing the sea and travel- 
 ling to the Illinois, Mith the consciousness of having 
 expended a third of their substance, to purchase, as 
 yet, nothing but sufferings ; for such persons to boil 
 their pot in the gipsy-fashion, to have a mere board to 
 eat on, to drink whisky or pure water, to sit and sleep 
 under a shed far inferior to their English cow-pens, 
 to have a mill at twenty miles' distance, an apothe- 
 cary's shop at a hundred, and a doctor no where : these, 
 my dear Sir, are not, to such people, " every-daij evils 
 " of life." You, though in your little " cabin," have 
 your books, yow have vourname circulating in the world, 
 you have it to be given, by and bye, to a city or a 
 county; and, if you fail of brilliant success, you have 
 still a sufficiency of fortune to secure you a safe retreat. 
 Almost the whole of your neighbours must be destitute 
 of all these sources of comfort, hope, and consolation. 
 As they noic are, their change is, and must be, for the 
 M-orse ; and, as to the future, besides the uncertainty 
 attendant, every where, on that which is to come, they 
 ought to be excused, if they, at their age, despair of 
 seeing days as happy as those that they have seen. 
 
 578. It were much better for such people not to emi- 
 grate at all ; for while they are sure to come into a 
 state of some degree of suffering, they leave behind 
 them the chance of happy days ; and, in my opinion, 
 a certainty of such days. 1 think it next to impossible 
 for any man of tolerable information to believe, that 
 the present tyranny of the seat-owners can last another 
 two years. As to ichat change will take place, it would, 
 perhaps, be hard to say : but, that some great change 
 will come is certain ; and, it is also certain, that the 
 change must he for the better. Indeed, one of the mo- 
 tives for the emigration of many is said to be, that they
 
 304 Letter to [Part Ifl. 
 
 think a convulsion inevitable. Why should such per- 
 sons as I am speaking of fear a convulsion ? Why 
 should they suppose, that they will suffer by a convul- 
 sion ? What have thci/ done to provoke the rage of the 
 blanketteers 1 Do they think that their countrjinen, 
 all but themselves, Avill be transformed into prowling 
 wolves ? This is precisely what the Boroughmongers 
 wish them to believe ; and, !)elieving it, they^ee instead 
 of remaining to assist to keep the people down, as the 
 Boroughmongers wish them to do. 
 
 579. Being here, however, they, as you say, think 
 only of the good they have left behind them, and of 
 the had they find here. This is no fault of theirs : it is 
 the natural course of the human mind ; and this you 
 ought to have known. You yourself acknowledge, 
 that England " icas never so dear to you as it is novo 
 " in recollection : being no longer inider its base oli- 
 " garchy, I can think of my native country and her 
 " noble institutions, apart from her politics." I may 
 ask you, by the way, what 7ioble insfiiutions she has, 
 which are not of a political nature ? Say the oppres- 
 sions of her tyrants, say that you can think of her and 
 love her renown and her famous polifical institutions, 
 apart from those oppressions, and then I go with you 
 with all my heart ; but, so thinking, and so feeling, I 
 cannot say vvith you in your Notes, that England is 
 to me " mailer of history," nor with you, in your Let- 
 ters FKOM THE Illinois, that " where liberty is, there 
 " is 7ny country." 
 
 580. But, leaving this matter, lor the present, if 
 English Farmers must emigrate, why should they en- 
 counter unnecessary difficulties ? Coming from a 
 country like a garden, why should they not stop in 
 another somewhat resembling that which they have lived 
 in before ? Why should they, at an expense amounting 
 to a large part of what they possess, prowl two thousand 
 miles at the hazard of their limbs and lives, take Avomen 
 and children through scenes of hardship and distress 
 not easily described, and that too, to live like gipsies at 
 the end of their journey, for, at least, a year or two, and, 
 as 1 think I shall shoAv, without the smallest chance of 
 their yfna% doing so well as they may do in these
 
 Part III.] Morris Birkbeck, Esq. 305 
 
 Atlantic States ? Why should an English Farmer and 
 his family, who have always been jogging about a snug 
 home-stead, eating regular meals, and sleeping in warm 
 rooms, push back to the Illinois, and encounter those 
 hardships, which require all the habitual disregard ot" 
 comfort of an American back-woodsman to overcome ? 
 Why should they do this ] The undertaking is hardly 
 reconcileable to reason in an Atlantic American Farmer 
 who has half a dozen sons, all brought up to use the 
 axe, the saw, the chisel and the hammer from their in- 
 fancy, and every one of whom is ploughman, carpenter, 
 wheelwright and butcher, and can work from sun-rise 
 to sun-set, and sleep, if need be, upon the bare boards. 
 What, then, must it be in an English farmer and his 
 family of helpless mortals ? Helpless, I mean, in this 
 scene of such novelty and such difTiculty ? And what 
 is his icife to do ; she who has been torn from all her 
 relations and neighbours, and from every thing tliat she 
 liked in the world, and who, perhaps, has never, in all 
 her life before, been ten miles from the cradle in which 
 she was nursed ? An American farmer mends his 
 plough, his Magon, his tackle of all sorts, his household 
 goods, his shoes; and, if need be, he makes them all. 
 Can our people do all this, or any part of it? Can 
 they live without bread for months ? Can they live 
 without beer 1 Can they be otherAvise thiin miserable, 
 cut off, as they must be, from all intercourse with, and 
 hope of hearing of, their relations and friends f The 
 truth is, that this is not transplanting, it is tearing it jJ 
 and flinging axcay. 
 
 581. Society ! What society can these people have ? 
 'Tis true they have nobody to envy, for nobody can 
 have any thiug to enjoy. But there may be, and there 
 must be, mutual complainings and upbraidings ; and 
 every unhappiness will be traced directly to him who 
 has been, hoAvever unintentionally, the cause of the 
 imhappy person's removal. The very foundation of 
 your plan necessarily contained the seeds of discontent 
 and ill-will. A colony all from the same country was 
 the very worst project that could have been fallen upon. 
 You took upon yourself the charge of Moses without 
 being invested with any part of his authority ; and
 
 306 Letter to [Part III. 
 
 absolute as this was, he found the charge so heavy, that 
 he called upon the Lord to share it with him, or to relieve 
 him from it altogether. Soon after you went out, an 
 Unitarian Priest, upon ray asking what you were going 
 to do in that wild country, said, you were going to form 
 a community, who would be " content to Avorship one 
 •' God." "I hope not," said I, " for he will have 
 " plagues enough without adding a priest to the nura- 
 " ber." But, perhaps, I was wrong: for Aaron was 
 of great assistance to the leader of the Israelites. 
 
 582. As if the inevitable etfects of disappointment 
 and hardship were not sufficient, you had, too, a sort of 
 partnership in the leaders. This is sure to produce 
 feuds and bitterness in the long run. Partnership- 
 sovereignties have furnished the world with numerous 
 instances of poisonings and banishments and rottings 
 in prison. It is as much as merchants, who post their 
 books every Sunday, can do to get along without quar- 
 relling. Of man and M'ife, though they are flesh of 
 flesh and bone of bone, the harmony is not always quite 
 perfect, except in France, where the husband is the 
 servant, and in Germany and Prussia, Where the wife is 
 the slave. But, as for a partnership sovereignty without 
 disagreement, there is but one single instance upon re- 
 cord ; that, I mean, was of the tivo kings of Brentford, 
 whose cordiality was, jou know, so perfect, that they 
 both smelt to the same nosegay. This is, my dear Sir, 
 no bantering. I am quite serious. It is impossible that 
 separations should not take place, and equally impos- 
 sible that the neighbourhood should not be miserable. 
 This is not the way to settle in America. The way is, 
 to go and sit yourself down amongst the natives. They 
 are already setded. They can lend you what you want 
 to borrow, and happy they are always to do it. And, 
 which is the great thing of all great things, you have 
 their women for your xcomen to commune with ! 
 
 583. R.\pp, indeed, has done great things ; but Rapp 
 has the authority of Moses and that of Aaron united in 
 his own person. Besides, Rapp's community observe 
 in reality that celibacy, which IMonks and Nuns pretend 
 to, though I am not going to take my oath, mind, that 
 none of the tricks of the Convent are ever played in
 
 Part III.] Morris Birkbeck, Esq. 307 
 
 the tabernacles o^ Harmony. At any rate, Rapp secures 
 the effects of celibacy ; first, an absence of the expense 
 attending the breeding and rearing of children, and, 
 second, unremitted labour of woman as well as man. 
 But, where, in all the world, is the match of this to be 
 found ? Where else shall we look for a Society com- 
 posed of persons willing and able to forego the gra- 
 tification of the most powerful propensity of nature, 
 for the sake of getting money together ? Where else 
 shall we look for a band of men and women who love 
 money better than their own bodies 1 Better than their 
 souls we find people enough to love money ; but, who 
 ever before heard of a set that preferred the love of 
 money to that of their bodies ? Who, before, ever con- 
 ceived the idea of putting a stop to the procreation of 
 children, for the sake of saving tlie expense of bearing 
 and breeding them ? This Society, which is a perfect 
 prodigy and monster, ought to have the image of 
 MAMMON in their place of M-orship ; for that fs the 
 object of their devotion, and not the God of nature. 
 Yet the persons belonging to this unnatural association 
 are your iiparpst npitrhbours. THp maspidine things 
 here, called women, who have imposed barrenness on 
 themselves, out of a pure love of gain, are the nearest 
 neighbours of the affectionate, tender-hearted wives 
 and mothers and daughters, who are to inhabit your 
 colony, and who are, let us thank God, the Aery reverse 
 of the petticoated Germans of Harmony. 
 
 584. In such a situation, with so many circumstances 
 to annoy, what happiness can an English family enjoy 
 in that country, so far distant from all that resembles 
 what they have left behind them f " The fair Enchant- 
 " ress, Liberti/," of whom you speak with not too much 
 rapture, they would have found in any of these States, 
 and, in a garb, too, by which they would have recognised 
 her. Where they now are, they are free indeed ; but 
 their freedom is that of the wild animals in your woods. 
 It is not freedom, it is no government. The Gipsies, 
 in England, are free ; and any one, who has a mind to 
 live in a cave, or cabin, in some hidden recess of our 
 Hampshire forests, may be free too. The English 
 farmer, in the Illinois, is, indeed, beyond the reach of
 
 308 Letter to [Part HI. 
 
 the Boroughraongers ; and so is the man that is in the 
 grave. When it was first proposed, in the Enghsh 
 Ministry, to drop quietly the title oi King of France in 
 the enumeration of our king's titles, and, when it was 
 stated to he an expedient likely to tend to a peace, 
 Mr. WixDiuM, who was then a member of the Cabinet, 
 said : " As this is a measure of safety, and as, doubtless, 
 " we shall hear of others of tiie same cast, what think 
 *' you of going under ground at once ? " It Avas a re- 
 mark enough to cut the liver out of the hearers ; but Pitt 
 and his associates had no livers. I do not believe, that 
 any twelve Journeymen, or Labourers, in England 
 would have voted for the adoption of this mean and des- 
 picable measure. 
 
 585. If, indeed, the Illinois were the only place out 
 of the reach of the Borough-grasp ; and, if men are re- 
 solved to get out of that reach ; then, I should say. 
 Go to the Illinois, by all means. But, as there is a 
 country, a settled country, a free country, full of kind 
 neighbours, full of all that is good, and Avhen this 
 country is to be traversed in order to get at the acknow- 
 ledged hardships of the Illinois, how can a sane mind 
 lead an English Farmer into the expedition ? 
 
 586. It is the enchanting damsel that makes the 
 knight encounter the hair-breadth scapes, the sleeping 
 on the ground, the cooking with cross-sticks to hang the 
 pot on. It is the Prairie, that pretty French M'ord, 
 which means green grass bespangled with daisies and 
 cowshps ! Oh, God ! What delusion ! And that a man 
 of sense ; a man of superior understanding and talent ; 
 a man of honesty, honour, humanity, and lofty senti- 
 ment, should be the cause of this delusion ; I, my dear 
 Sir, have seen Prairies many years ago, in America, 
 as fine as yours, as fertile as yours, though not so ex- 
 tensive. I saw those Prairies settled on by xlmerican 
 Loyalists, who were carried, with all their goods and 
 tools to the spot, and who were furnished with four years' 
 provisions, all at the expense of England; who had the 
 lands given them ; tools given them ; and who were 
 thus seated down on the borders of creeks, which gave 
 them easy communication with the inhabited plains near 
 the sea. The settlers that I particularly knew were
 
 Part III.] MoKRis BiRKBECK, Esq. 309 
 
 Connecticut men. Men with families of sons. Men 
 able to do as much in a day at the works necessary in 
 their situation as so many Englishmen would be able to 
 do in a week. They began with a shed ; then rose to a 
 log'fiouse ; and next to a frame-house ; all of their own 
 building. I have seen them manure their land M^ith 
 Salmon caught in their creeks, and with Pigeons caught 
 on the land itself It will be a long while before you 
 will see such beautiful Corn-fields as I saw there. Yet 
 nothing but the danger and disgrace which attended their 
 return to Connecticut prevented their returning, though 
 there they must have begun the world anew. J saw them 
 in their log-huts, and saw them in their frame-houses. 
 They had overcome all their difficulties as settlers ; 
 they were under a government which required neither 
 tax nor service from them ; they were as happy as 
 people could be as to ease and plenty ; but, still, they 
 sighed for Connecticut ; and especially the women, 
 young as well as old, though we, gay fellows with 
 worsted or silver lace upon our bright red coals, did 
 our best to make them happy by telling them entertain- 
 ing stories about Old England, while we drank their 
 coffee and grog by gallons, and eat their foM'ls, pigs 
 and sausages and sweet-meats, by wheel-barrow loads ; 
 for, though we were by no means shy, their hospitality 
 far exceeded our appetites. 1 am an old hand at the 
 work of settling in wilds. I have, more than once or 
 twice, had to begin my nest and go in, like a bird, 
 making it habitable by degrees ; and, if I, or, if such 
 people as my old friends above-mentioned, Mith every 
 thing found for them and brought to the spot, had diffi- 
 culties to undergo, and sighed for home even after all 
 the difficulties were over, what must be the lot of an 
 English Farmer's family in tiie Illinois { 
 
 587. All this I told you, my dear Sir, in London just 
 before your departure. I begged of y«u and jMr. Richard 
 Flower both, not to think of the Wildernesses. I begged 
 of you to go to within a day's ride of some of these great 
 cities, where your ample capital and your great skill 
 could not fail to place you upon a footing, at least, with 
 the richest amongst the most happy and enlightened 
 Yeomanry in the world ] where you would find every one
 
 310 Letter to [Part III. 
 
 to praise the improvements you would introduce, and 
 nobody to envy you any thing that you might acquire. 
 Where you would find society as good, in all respects, 
 as that which you had left behind you. Where you 
 would find neighbours ready prepared for you far more 
 generous and hospitable than those in England can be, 
 loaded and pressed down as they are by the inexorable 
 hand of the Borough-villains. I offered you a letter 
 (which, I believe, 1 sent you), to my friends the Pauls. 
 '' But," said I, " you want no letter. Go into Phila- 
 '' delphia, or Bucks, or Chester, or Montgomery county ; 
 '' tell any of the Quakers, or any body else, that you 
 " are an English Farmer, come to settle amongst them ; 
 " and, I'll engage that you will instantly have friends 
 " and neighbours as good and as cordial as those that 
 '' you leave in England." 
 
 .588. At this very moment, if this plan had been 
 pursued, you would have had a beautiful farm of two 
 or three hundred acres. Fine stock upon it feeding on 
 Swedish Turnips. A house overflowing with abun- 
 dance ; comfort, ease, and, if you choose, elegance, 
 would have been your inmates ; libraries, public and 
 private within your reach ; and a communication with 
 England much more quick and regular than that which 
 you noAv have even with Pittsburgh. 
 
 589. You say, that " Philadelphians know notJdng 
 " of the Western Countries." Suffer me, then, to say, 
 that you know nothing of the Atlantic States, which, 
 indeed, is the only apology for your saying, that the 
 Americans have no mutton fit to eat, and regard it onlif 
 as a thing ^fit for dogs. In this island every farmer has 
 sheep. I kWl fatter lamb than I ever saiv in England, 
 and the fattest mutton 1 ever saw, >vas in company 
 with Mr. Harline, in Philadelphia market last winter. 
 At Brighton, near Boston, they produced, at a cattle 
 show this fall, an ox of two thousand seven hundred 
 pounds weight, and sheep much finer, than you and 
 I saw at the Smithfield Show in 1014. Mr.Judg^ 
 Lawrence of this county, has kept, for seven years, 
 an average of ^fc hundred Merinos on his farm of one 
 hundred and fifty acres, besides raising twenty acres 
 of Corn and his usual pretty large proportion of grain !
 
 Part III.] Morris Birkbeck, Esq. 311 
 
 Can your Western Farmers beat that ? Yes, in extent, 
 as the surface of five dollars beats that of a guinea. 
 
 590. I suppose that Mr. Judge Lawrence's fami, 
 close by the side of a bay that gives him two hours of 
 water carriage to New York ; a farm with twenty acres 
 of meadow, real prairie ; a gentleman's house and 
 garden ; barns, sheds, cider-house, stables, coach-house, 
 corn-cribs, and orchards that may produce from four 
 to eight thousand bushels of apples and pears : I sup- 
 pose, that this farm is worth three hundred dollars an 
 acre : that is, forty-five thousand dollars ; or, about 
 twelve or thirteen thousand pounds. 
 
 991. NoAv, then, let ns take a look at your estimate 
 of the expenses of sitting dozen in the prairies. 
 
 Copy from my Memorandum Book. 
 
 592. Estimate of money required for the comfortable 
 establishment of my family on Bolting House, now 
 English, prairie ; on which the first instalment is paid. 
 About 720 acres of wood-land, and 720 prairie ; — the 
 latter to be chiefly grass :— 
 
 Dollars. 
 Second instalment, . . . August 1819, 720 
 
 Third ditto August 1820, 720 
 
 Fourth ditto August 1821, 720 
 
 2,160 
 
 Dwelling-house and appurtenances .... 4,500 
 
 Other buildings 1 ,500 
 
 4680 rods of fencing, viz. 3400 on the prairie, 
 
 and 1280 round the Moodland 1,170 
 
 Sundry wells, 200 dollars; gates, 100 dollars; 
 
 cabins, 200 dollars 500 
 
 100 head of cattle, 900 dollars ; 20 sows, &c. 
 
 100 dollars ; sheep, lOOO dollars .... 2,000 
 Ploughs, wagons, &.c. and sundry tools and im- 
 plements 270 
 
 Housekeeping until the land supplies us . . 1 ,000 
 Shepherd one year's wages, herdsmen one year, 
 
 and sundry other labourers 1,000 
 
 One cabinet-maker, one wheel-wright, one year, 
 making furniture and implements, 300 dollars 
 each 600 
 
 Carried over . . . 14,700
 
 312 Lettbr to [Part III. 
 
 Dollars. 
 Brought over . . . 14,700 
 Sundry articles of furniture, ironmongery, pot- 
 tery, glass, &c 500 
 
 Sundries, fruit trees, &c 100 
 
 First instalment already paid 720 
 
 Five horses on hand, worth 300 
 
 Expense of freight and carriage of linen, bed- 
 ding, books, clothing, &c 1,000 
 
 Value of articles brought from England . . . 4,500 
 
 Voyage and journey 2,000 
 
 Doll. 23,820 
 23,820 dollars =^5,359 sterling. 
 
 Allow about 600 dollars more for ) .141 
 seed and com ) 
 
 ^5,500 
 
 593. So, here is more than one-third of the amount 
 of Mr. Judge La>vrence's farm. To be sure, there are 
 only about 18,000 dollars expended on land, buildings, 
 and getting at them ; but, what a life is that which you 
 are to lead for a thousand dollars a-year, when two 
 good domestic servants will cost four hundred of the 
 money ? Will you live like one of the Yeomen of your 
 rank here? Then, I assure you, that your domestics 
 and groceries (the latter three times as dear as they are 
 here) and crockery-M are (equally dear) will more than 
 swallow up that pitiful sum. You allow- six thousand 
 dollars for buildings. Twice the sum Mould not put 
 you, in this respect, upon a footing with Mr. Lawrence. 
 His land is all completely fenced and his grain in the 
 ground. His apple-trees have six thousand bushels of 
 apples in their buds, ready to come out in the spring; 
 and, a large part of these to be sold at a high price to 
 go on ship-board. But, what is to give you his market ? 
 What is to make your pork, as soon as killed, sell for 
 9 or 10 dollars a hundred, and your cows at 45 or 50 
 dollars each, and your beef at 7 or 8 dollars a hundred, 
 and your corn at a dollar, and wheat at two dollars a 
 bushel! 
 
 594. However, happiness is in the mind ; and, if it 
 be necessary to the gratification of your mind to inhabit
 
 Part III.] Morris Birkbeck, Esq. 313 
 
 a wilderness and be the owner of a large tract of land, 
 you are right to seek and enjoy this gratification. But, 
 lor the plain, plodding English Farmer, who simply 
 seeks safety for his little property, with some addition to 
 it for his children ; for such a person to cross the At- 
 lantic states in search of safety, tranquillity and gain in 
 the Illinois, is, to my mind, little short of madness. Yet, 
 to this mad enterprize is he allured by your captivating 
 statements, and which statements become decisive in 
 their elfects upon his mind, when they are reduced to 
 Jicfures. This, my dear Sir, is the part of your writings, 
 which has given me most pain. You have not meant to 
 deceive; but you have first practised a deceit upon 
 yourself, and then upon others. All the disadvantages 
 you state; but, then, you accompany the statement by 
 telling us how quickly and how easily they will be over- 
 come. Salt, Mr. HuLME finds, even at Zanesville, at 
 two dollars and a half a bushel ; but, you tell us, that it 
 soon tvill be at three quarters of a dollar. And thus it 
 goes all through. 
 
 595. I am happy, however, that you have given us 
 figures in your account of Avhat an English farmer may 
 do with two thousand pounds. It is alluring, it is fal- 
 lacious, it tends to disappointment, misery, ruin and 
 broken hearts ; but it is open and honest in intention, 
 and it affords us the means of detecting and exposing the 
 fallacv. Many and many a family have returned to 
 New England after having emigrated to the West in 
 search oijine estates. Tkey, able workmen, exemplary 
 livers, have returned to labour in their native States 
 amongst their relations and old neighbours ; but, what 
 are our poor ruined coiuitrymen to do, when they be- 
 come penny less ? If 1 could root ray country from my 
 heart, common humanity would urge me to make an 
 humble attempt to dissipate the charming delusions, 
 which have, without your perceiving it, gone forth I'rom 
 your sprightly and able pen, and which delusions are 
 the more dangerous on account of your justly high and 
 well-kno^^Tl character for understanding ajul integrity. ' 
 
 596. The statement, to which I allude, stands as fol- 
 lows, in your tenth Letter from the Illinois. 
 
 597. A capital of 2000/. sterling, (8,889 dollars,
 
 314 Ibtt«» to [Pari III. 
 
 may be invested on a section of such land, in the fol- 
 lowing manner, viz. 
 
 Dollars. 
 Purchase of the land, 640 acres, at 2 dollars 
 
 per acre 1280 
 
 House and buildings, exceedingly convenient 
 
 and comfortable, may be built for ... . 1500 
 A rail fence round the woods, 1000 rods, at 25 
 
 cents per rod 250 
 
 About 1800 rods of ditch and bank, to divide the 
 
 arable land into 10 fields 000 
 
 Planting 1800 rods of live fence 150 
 
 Fruit trees for orchard, &c 100 
 
 Horses and other live stock 1500 
 
 Implements and furniture 1000 
 
 Provision for one year, and sundry incidental 
 
 charges 1000 
 
 Sundry articles of linen, books, apparel, imple- 
 ments, &c. brought from England .... 1000 
 Carriage of ditto, suppose 2000 lbs. at 10 dollars 
 
 per cwt 200 
 
 Voyage and travelling expenses of one person, 
 
 suppose 309 
 
 8889 
 Note. — The first instalment on the land is 320 
 dollars, therefore 960 dollars of the purchase 
 money remain in hand to be applied to the 
 expenses of cultivation, in addition to the 
 sums above stated. 
 
 Expenditure of Jirst Year. 
 
 Breaking up 100 acres, 2 dollars per acre . . 200 
 Indian com for seed, 5 barrels, (a barrel is five 
 
 bushels) 10 
 
 Planting ditto 26 
 
 Horse-hoeing ditto, one dollar per acre . . . 100 
 
 Harvesting ditto, 1 J dollar per acre .... 150 
 Ploughing the same land for wheat, 1 dollar per 
 
 acre 100 
 
 Seed wheat, sowing and harrowing .... 175 
 
 Incidental expenses 240 
 
 1000
 
 Part III.] Morris Birkbeck, Esq. 318 
 
 Produce of first Year. Dollars. 
 
 100 acres of Indian corn, 50 bushels (or 10 bar- 
 rels) per acre, at 2 dollars per barrel . . 2000 
 
 Net produce 1000 
 Expenditure of second Year. 
 
 Breaking up 100 acres for Indiaii corn, with 
 
 expenses on that crop 485 
 
 Harvesting and threshing wheat, 100 acres . . 350 
 
 Ploughing 100 acres for wheat, seed, &c. . . 275 
 
 Incidents 290 
 
 1^ 
 
 Produce of second Year. 
 
 100 acres Indian corn, 10 ban-els per 
 
 acre, 2 dollars per barrel .... 2000 
 100 acres wheat, 20 bushels per acre, 
 
 75 dollars per barrel 1500—3500 
 
 Net produce 2100 
 Expenditure of third Year. 
 
 Breaking up 100 acres as before, with expenses 
 
 on crop of Indian corn 48S 
 
 Ploughing 100 acres of wheat stubble for Indian 
 
 corn 100 
 
 Horse-hoeing, harvesting, &c. ditto .... 285 
 
 Harvesting and threshing 100 acres wheat . . 350 
 Dung-carting 100 acres for wheat, after second 
 
 crop of Indian corn 200 
 
 Ploughing 200 acres wheat, seed, &c. . . . 550 
 
 Incidents 330 
 
 "" 2300 
 
 Produce of third Year. 
 
 200 acres of Indian corn, 10 barrels per 
 
 acre, 2 dollars per barrel 4000 
 
 100 acres wheat, 20 bushels per acre, 
 
 75 dollars per barrel 1500 — 5500 
 
 Net produce 3200 
 Expenditure of fourth Year. 
 
 As the third 2330 
 
 Carried over . . . 2900 
 P 2
 
 816 Letter to [Part 111, 
 
 Dollars. 
 Brought over . , . 2300' 
 Harvesting and threshing 100 acres more '^ 
 
 wheat 350* 
 
 Additional incidents 60 
 
 2700 
 
 • ? -.-.iff 
 
 Produce of fourth Year. i :f 
 
 200 acres Indian corn, as above . . . 4000 i 
 
 200 acres wheat 3000 — 700O" 
 
 Net produce 4300- 
 Summary. 
 
 EXPENSES. PRODUCE. 
 
 Dollars Dollnrs, 
 
 First year 1000 . . 2000 
 
 Second 1400 . . 3.500 
 
 Third 2300 . . 5500 
 
 Fourth 2700 . . 7000 
 
 18000 
 
 House-keeping and other 
 
 expenses tor four years . 4000 11,400 '' 
 
 Net proceeds per annum 1650 
 
 Increasing value of land by cultivation and set- 
 tlements, half a dollar per ann. on 640 acres 320 
 Annual clear profit 1970 
 
 598. " Twenty more : kill 'em ! Twenty more : kill 
 " them too !" No : I Avill not compare you to Bobadil : 
 for he was an intentional deceiver ; and you are unin- 
 tentionally deceiving others and yourself too. But, 
 really, there is in this statement something so extrava- 
 gant ; so perfectly >vild ; so ridiculously and staringly 
 untrue, that it is not without a great deal of difficulty that 
 all my respect for you personally can subdue in me the 
 temptation to treat it with the contempt due to its in- 
 trinsic demerits. 
 
 599. 1 shall notice only a few of the items. A house, 
 you say, " exceedingly convenient and comfortable, 
 " together with farm-buildings, may be built for 1500 
 " dollars." Your own intended house you estimate at 
 4500, and your out-buildings at 1500. So that, i/this 
 house of the farmer (an English farmer, mind) and his
 
 Part III.] MoKRis Birkbeck, Esq. 317 
 
 buildings, are to be " exceedingli/ convenient and com- 
 ^^ for table," for 1500 dollars, your house and buildings 
 must be on a scale, which, if not perfectly prbiceh/, 
 must savour a good deal of aristocratical distinction. 
 But, this i/ relieves us; for even your house, built of 
 pine timber and boards, and covered with cedar shingles, 
 and finished only as a f/nod plain farm-house ought to 
 be, will, if it be thirty-six feet front, thirty -fonr feet 
 deep, two rooms in front, kitchen, and wash-house be- 
 hind, four rooms above, and a cellar beneath ; yes, this 
 house alone, the bare empty house, with doors and win- 
 dows suitable, will x*08t vou more than six thousand 
 dollars. I state this upon good authority. I have taken 
 the estimate of a building carpenter. " What Car- 
 *' penter !" you will say. Why, a Long Island car- 
 penter, and the house to be built within a mile of 
 Brooklyn, or two miles of New York. And this is 
 giving you all the advantage, for here the |)ine is cheaper 
 than with you ; the shingles cheaper ; the lime and 
 stone and brick as cheap or cheaper ; the glass, iron, 
 lead, brass and tin, all at half or a quarter of (he Prairie 
 price : and, as to labour, if it he not cheaper here than 
 with you, men would do «ell not to go so far in search 
 of high wages! 
 
 600. Let no simple Englishman imagine, that here, 
 at and near New York, in this dear place, we have to 
 pay for the boards and timber brought from a distance ; 
 and that you, the happy people of the land of daisies and 
 cowslips, can cut down your own good and noble oak 
 trees upon the spot, on your own estates, and turn them 
 into houses without any carting. Let no simple Eng- 
 lishman believe such i(lle stories as this. To dissipate 
 all such notions, I have only to tell him, that the Ame- 
 rican farmers on this island, when they have buildings 
 to make or repair, go and purchase the pine timber and 
 boards, at the xery same time that they cut down their 
 own oak trees and cleave up and burn them as fire- 
 wood ! This is the universal practice in all the parts of 
 America that I have ever seen. What is the cause ? 
 Pine woo<l is cheaper, though bought, than the oak is 
 without buying. This fact, which nobody can deny, is 
 a complete proof that you gain no advantage from being
 
 318 Lbtter to [Part III. 
 
 in woods, as far as building is concerned. And the 
 truth is, that the boards and plank, which have been 
 used in the Prairie, have actually been brought from the 
 Wabash, charged with ten miles rough land carriage : 
 how lar they may have come down the Wabash I can- 
 not tell. 
 
 601. Thus, then, the question is settled that building 
 must be cheaper here than in the Illinois. If, there- 
 fore, a house, 36 by 34 feet, cost here 6000 dollars, 
 what can a man get theie for 1500 dollars I A mise- 
 rable hole, and no more. But, here are to be farm- 
 buildings and all, in the 1500 dollars' worth ! A bam, 
 40 feet by 30, with floor, and with stables in the sides, 
 cannot be built for 1500 dollars, leaving out wagon- 
 house, corn-crib, cattle-hovels, yard fences, pig-sties, 
 smoke house, and a great deal more ! And yet, you 
 say, that all these, and a farm-house into the bargain, 
 all " exceedingly comfortable and convenient," may be 
 had for 1500 dollars! 
 
 602. Now, you knoAv, ray dear Sir, that this is said 
 in the face of all America. Farmers are ray readers. 
 They all understand these matters. They are not only 
 good, but impartial judges ; and 1 call upon you to con- 
 tradict, or even question, my statements, if you can. 
 
 603. Do my eyes deceive me 1 Or do I really see 
 one hundred and fifty dollars put down as the expense 
 of " plantinrf one thousand eight hundred rod of live 
 '■'■fence " 1 That is to say, nine cents, or fourpence 
 halfpenny sterling a rod! TFAai plants "? Whente to 
 come 1 Drawn out of the woods, or first sown in a 
 nursery I Is it seed to be sown 1 Where are the seeds 
 to come from 1 No levelling of the top of the bank ; 
 no drill ; no sowing ; no keeping clean for a year or 
 two : or, all these for nine cents a rod, when the same 
 works cost half a dollar a rod in England ! 
 
 604. Manure too ! And do you really want manure 
 then 1 And, where, I pray you, are you to get manure 
 for 100 acres 1 But, supposing you to have it, do you 
 seriously mean to tell us that you will carry it on for 
 two dollars an acre 1 The carrying on, indeed, might 
 perhaps be done for that, but who pays for the filing 
 and for the spreading ? M ! my dear Sir, I can well
 
 Part III.] Morris Birrbeck, Esq. dl9 
 
 imagine your feelings at putting down the item of dung- 
 carting, trifling as you make it appear upon paper. 
 You now recollect my words when 1 last had the 
 pleasure of seeing you, in Catherine-street, a few days 
 before the departure of us both. I then dreaded the 
 dung-cart, and recommended the Tullian System to 
 you, by which you would have the same crops every 
 year, without manure ; but, unfortunately for my ad- 
 vice, you sincerely believed your land would be already 
 too rich, and that your main difficulty would be, not to 
 cart on manure, but to cart off the produce I 
 
 605. After this, it appears unnecessary for me to 
 notice any other part of this Transalleganian romance, 
 which I might leave to the admiration of the Edinburgh 
 Reviewers, whose knowledge of these matters is quite 
 equal to what they have discovered as to the Funding 
 System and Paper Money. But when I think of the 
 flocks of poor English Farmers, who are tramping 
 away towards an imaginary, across a real land of milk 
 and honey, I cannot lay down the pen, till I have no- 
 ticed an item or two of the produce. 
 
 606. The farmer is to have 100 acres of Indian 
 com, the first year. The minds of you gentlemen who 
 cross the Allegany seem to expand, as it were, to cor- 
 respond with the extent of the horizon that opens ia 
 your view ; but, I can assure you, that if you were to 
 talk to a farmer on this side of the mountains of a field 
 of Corn of a hundred acres during the first year of a 
 settlement, with grassy land and hands scarce, yoU 
 would frighten him into a third-day ague. In goes 
 your Com, however ! " Twenty more : kill 'em !" 
 Nothing but ploughing : no harrowing ; no marking ; 
 and only a horse-hoeing, during the summer, at a dollar 
 an acre. The planting is to cost only a quarter of a 
 dollar an acre. The planting Mill cost a dollar an acre. 
 The horse-hoeing in your grassy land, two dollars. 
 The hand-hoeing, which must be well done, or you will 
 have no corn, two dollars; for, in spite of your teeth, 
 your rampant natural grass will be up before your corn, 
 and a man must go to a thousand hills to do half an acre 
 a day. It will cost two dollars to harvest a hundred 
 bushels of com ears. So that here are about 400 dol-
 
 320 Letter to [Part III. 
 
 lars of expenses on the corn alone, to be added. A 
 trifle, to oe sure, when we are looking through the 
 Transalleganian glass, which diminishes out-goings 
 and magnifies incomings. HoweA'er, here are four 
 hundred dollars. 
 
 607. In goes the plough for wheat? '* In him 
 " again ! Twenty more ! " But, this is in October, 
 mind. Is the Corn off? It may be; but, where are 
 ihe four hundred tvagon loads of com stalks? A prodi- 
 giously fine thing is this forest of fodder, as high and 
 as thick as an English coppice. But, though it be of 
 710 use to you, who have the meadows without bounds, 
 this coppice must be removed, if you please, before 
 you plough for wheat ! 
 
 608. Let us pause here, then; let us look at the 
 battalion, who are at work ; for, there must be little 
 short of a Hessian Battalion. Twenty men and twenty 
 horses may husk the Corn, cut and cart the stalks, 
 plough and sow and harrow lor the wheat ; twenty 
 two-legged and twenty four-legged animals may do the 
 work in the proper time ; but, if they do it, they must 
 work well. Here is a goodly group to look at, for an 
 English Farmer, without a penny in 'his pocket ; for 
 all his money is gone long ago, even according to your 
 own estimate ; and, here, besides the expense of cattle 
 and tackle, are 600 dollars, in bare wages, to be paid 
 in a month ! You and I both have forgotten the shelling 
 of the Corn, which, and putting it up, will come to 
 50 dollars more at the least, leaving the price of the 
 barrel to be paid for by the purchaser of the Corn. 
 
 609. But, what did I say ? Shell the Corn ? It 
 must go into the Cribs first. It cannot be shelled im- 
 mediately. And it must not be thrown into heaps. 
 It must be put into Cribs. I have had made out an 
 estimate of the expense of the Cribs for ten thousand 
 bttshels of Corn Ears : that is the crop; and the Cribs 
 will cost 570 dollars ! Though, mind, the farmer's 
 house, bartis, stables, wagon-house, and all, are to cost 
 but 1500 dollars! But, the third year, our poor sim- 
 pleton is to have 200 acres of corn ! " Twenty more : 
 " kill 'em ! " Another 570 dollars for Cribs ! 
 
 610. However, crbps now come tumbling on him
 
 Part III.] Morris Birkseck, Esq. 321 
 
 80 fast, that he must struggle hard not to be stifled 
 with his OAVn superabundance. He has now got 200 
 acres of corn ana 100 acres of wheat, which latter he 
 has, indeed, had one year before! Oh, madness ! But, 
 to proceed. To get in these crops and to sow the 
 wheat, first taking away 200 acres of English coppice 
 in stalks, will, with the dungimj for the wheat, require, 
 at least, fifty good men, axid forty good horses or oxen, 
 for thirty days. Faith ! when larmer Simpleton sees 
 all this (in his dreams I mean), he will think himself 
 a farmer of the rank of Job, before Satan beset that 
 example of patience, so worthy of imitation, and so 
 seldom imitated. 
 
 611. Well, but Simpleton must bustle to get in his 
 wheat In, indeed ! What can cover it, but the canopy 
 of heaven? A barn! It will, at txvo English icagou 
 loads of sheaves to an acre, require a barn a hundred 
 feet long, fifty feet wide, and tM enty-three feet high 
 up to the eaves ; and this barn with two proper floors, 
 will cost more than seven thousand dollars. He will 
 put it in stacks ; let him add si.\ men to his battalion 
 then. He will thrash it in the field; let hhn add ten 
 more men ! Let him, at once, send and press the Har- 
 monites into his service, and make Rapp march at 
 their head, for, never Mill he by any other means get 
 in the crop ; and, even then, if he pay fair wages, he 
 will lose by it. 
 
 612. After the crop is in and the seed soM-n, in the 
 fall, what is to become of Simpleton's men till Corn 
 ploughing and planting time in the spring I And, then, 
 when the planting is (lone, what is to become of them 
 till harvest time 1 Is he, like Bayks, in the Rehearsal, 
 to lav thL'Ui down when he ple;).ses, and when he 
 pleases make them rise up again ? To hear you talk 
 about these crops, and, at other times to hear you ad- 
 vising others to bring labourers 'rom England, one 
 would think you, for your own part, able, like Cad- 
 mus, to make men start up out of the earth. How 
 would one ever have thought it possible for infatuation 
 like this to seize hold of a mind hke yours ! 
 
 613. When I read in your Illinois Letters, that 
 you had prepared horses, ploughs, and other things,
 
 Letter to [Part III. 
 
 for putting in a hundred acres of Com in the Spring, 
 how I pitied you ! I saw all your plagues, if you could 
 not see them. I saw the grass choking your plants ; 
 the grubs eating them ; and you fretting and turning 
 from the sight with all the pangs of sanguine baffled 
 hope. I expected you to have ten btcshels, instead of 
 ^fty, upon an acre. I saw your confusion, and parti- 
 cipated in your mortification. From these feelings I 
 was happily relieved by the Journal of our friend 
 HuLME, who informs the world, and our countrymen 
 in particular, that you had not, in July Icist, any Cam 
 at all growing ! 
 
 614. Thus it is to reckon one's chickens before 
 they are hatched : and thus the Transalleganian dream 
 vanishes. You have been deceived. A warm heart, 
 a lively imagination, and 1 know not what caprice 
 about republicanism, have led you into sanguine ex- 
 pectations and wrong conclusions. Come, now ! Con- 
 fess it like yourself ; that is, like a man of sense and 
 spirit : like an honest and fair-dealing John Bull. To 
 err belongs to all men, great as well as little ; but 
 to be ashamed to confess error, belongs only to the 
 latter. 
 
 615. Great as is my confidence in your candour, lean 
 however, hardly hope wholly to escape your anger 
 for having so decidedly condemned your publications; 
 but, I do hope, that you will not be so unjust as to im- 
 pute my conduct to any base self-interested motive. I 
 have no private interest, 1 can have no such interest 
 in endeavouring to check the mad torrent towards the 
 West. 1 own nothing in these States, and never shall ; 
 and whether English Farmers push on into misery and 
 ruin, or stop here in happiness and prosperity, to me, 
 as tar as private interest goes, it must oe the same. Afi 
 to the difference in our feeUngs and notions about coun- 
 try, about allegiance, and about forms of government, 
 this may exist without any, even the smallest degree 
 of personal dishke. I was no hypocrite in England ; 
 1 had no views farther than those which I professed. 
 I wanted nothing for myself but the fruit of my own in- 
 dustry and talent, and I wished nothing for my country 
 but its hberties and laws, which say, that the people
 
 Part III.] Morris Birkbeck, Esq. 823 
 
 shall be fairly represented. England has been very 
 happy and free ; her greatness and renown have been 
 surpassed by those of no nation in the world ; her 
 wise, just, and merciful laMS form the basis of that 
 freedom which we here enjoy, she has been fertile be- 
 yond all rivalship in men of learning and men devoted 
 to the cause of freedom and humanity ; her people, 
 though proud and domineering, yield to no people in 
 the world in frankness, good faith, sincerity, and oene- 
 volence : and 1 cannot but know, that this state of things 
 has existed, and that this people has been formed, under 
 a government of king, lords, and commons. Having 
 this powerful arg\iment of experience before me, and 
 seeing no reason why the thing should be otherviise, 
 1 have never wished for republican government in 
 England ; though, rather than that the present tyran- 
 nical oligarchy should continue to trample on king and 
 people, 1 would gladly see the whole fabric torn to 
 atoms, and trust to chance for something better, being 
 sure that nothing could be worse. But, if I am not 
 a republican ; if I think my duty towards England in- 
 defeasible ; if I think that it becomes me to abstain 
 from any act which shall seem to say 1 abandon her, 
 and especially in this her hour of distress and oppres- 
 sion ; and, if, in all these points, I differ from you, I 
 trust that to this difference no part of the above stric- 
 tures w ill be imputed, but that the motive will be fairly 
 inferred from the act, and not the act imputed unfairly 
 to any motive. I am, my dear Sir, with great respect 
 for your talents as well as character. 
 
 Your most obedient 
 
 And most humble servant, 
 
 Wm. cobbett.
 
 324 Letter u. to [Part III. 
 
 MORRIS BIRKBECK, Esq. 
 OF ENGLISH PRAIRIE, ILLINOIS TERRITORY. 
 
 LETTER IL; 
 
 Nofth Hempstead, Long Island, 
 MY DEAR SIR, 15(/t Dee. 1818. 
 
 616. Being, M'hen I -wrote my former Letter to you 
 in great haste to couclude, in order that my son Wil- 
 liam might take it to England with him, I left unno- 
 ticed many things, Avhich I had observed in 3'our 
 " Letters from the Illinois;" and which things merited 
 pointed notice. Some of these I will notice ; for, I 
 wish to discharge all my duties towards my country- 
 men faithfully ; and, I know of no duty more sacred, 
 than that of warning them against pecuniary ruin and 
 mental misery. 
 
 617. It has always been evident to me, that the 
 Western Countries were not the countries for English 
 farmers to settle in : no, nor for American farmers, un- 
 less under peculiar circumstances. The settlers, who 
 have gone from the New England States, have, in ge- 
 neral, been able men with families of stout sons. The 
 contracted farm in New England sells for money 
 enough to buy the land for five or six farms in the 
 W^est. These larn»s are made by the labour of the 
 owners. They hire nobody. They live any hoic for a 
 while. I will engage that the labour performed by one 
 stout New England family in one year, would cost an 
 English farmer a thousand pounds in wages. You will 
 say, why cannot the English labour as hard as the 
 Yankees '\ But, mind, I talk of a family of Yankee 
 sons; and^ besides, I have no scruple to say, that one 
 of these will do as much work in the clearing and
 
 Part III.] Morris Birkqeck, Esq. 325 
 
 fencing of a farm, and in the erection of buildingi, 
 a.s four or fve English of the same age and size. Yet, 
 have n-.any of the New England farmers returned. 
 Even they have had cause to repent of their folly. 
 What hope is there, then, that English farmers will 
 succeed 1 
 
 618. Jt so happens, that / have seen new' settle- 
 ments formed. 1 have seen lands cleared. I have 
 seen crowds of people coming and squatting down in 
 woods or little islands, and by the sides of rivers. I 
 have seen the log-hut raised ; the bark covering put 
 on ; I have heard the bold language of the adventurers ; 
 and I have Avitnessed their subsequent miseries. They 
 were just as free as you are ; for, they, like you, saw 
 no signs of the existence of any government, good or 
 bad. 
 
 619. New settlements, particularly at so great a 
 distance from all the conveniences and sweeteners of 
 life, must be begun b>- people who labour for them- 
 selves. Money is, in such a case, almost useless. It 
 is impossible to believe, that, after your statement 
 about your intended hundred acres of Indian corn^ you 
 would not have had it, or, at least, a part of it, if you 
 could; that is to say, if money would have got it. Vet 
 you had not a single square rod. Mr. Hulme, (See 
 Journal, 28th July) says, in the way of reason for 
 your having no crops this year, that you could pur- 
 chase with more economy than you could grow / In- 
 deed I what ; would the Indian Corn have cost, then, 
 more than the price of the Corn ? Untoward observa- 
 tion ; but perfectly true, I am convinced. There is, 
 it i-s my opinion, nobody that can raise Indian Com 
 or Grain at .so great adi^tiince from a market to any 
 profit at all with hired labour. Nay, this is too plain 
 a case to be matter of opinian. I may safelj assume 
 it as an indisputable fact. For, it being notorious, that 
 labour is as high priced with you as with us, and vour 
 suitement shewing that Corn is not mucli more than 
 one-third of our price, how monstrous, if you gain at 
 all, must be the Consumers' gains here! The rent of 
 the land here is a mere trifle more than it must be 
 there, for the cultivated part must pay rent for the
 
 386 Letter ii. to [Part III. 
 
 uncultivated part. The labour, indeed, as all the world 
 knows, is every thing. All the other expenses are not 
 worth speaking of. What, then, must be the gains 
 of the Long Island farmer, who sells his com at 
 a dollar a bushel, if you, with labour, at the Long 
 Island price, can gain by selling Corn at the rate of 
 y?ue bushels for two dollars ! If yours be Bifine country 
 for English farmers to migrate to, tvhat vimt this 
 he I You want no manure. This cannot last long ; 
 and, accordingly, I see that you mean to dung for 
 wheat after the second crop of Corn. This is another 
 of the romantic stories exposed. In Letter IV you 
 relate the romance of manure being useless; but, in 
 Letter X, you tell us, that you propose to use it. Land 
 bearing crops without a manure, or, with new-culture 
 and constant ploughing, is a romance. This I told you 
 in London ; and this you have found to be true. 
 
 620, It is of little consequence what wild schemes 
 are formed and executed by men who have property 
 enough to carry them back ; but, to invite men to go to 
 the Illinois with a few score of pounds in their pockets, 
 and to tell them, that they can become farmers with 
 those pounds, appears to me to admit of no other 
 apology than an unequivocal acknowledgment, that 
 the inviter is mad. Yet your fifteenth Letter from the 
 Illinois really contains such an invitation. This 
 letter is manifestly addressed to an imaginary person. 
 It is clear that the correspondent is a feigned, 
 or supposed, being. The letter is, I am sorry to say, 
 I think, a mere trap to catch poor creatures >vith a 
 few pounds in their pockets. I will here take the liberty 
 to insert the whole of this letter ; and will then en- 
 deavour to show the misery which it is calculated to 
 produce, not only amongst English people, but amongst 
 Americans who may chance to read it, and who are 
 now living happily in the Atlantic States. The letter 
 is dated, 24th of February, 1818, and the following 
 are its words : 
 
 621. " Dear Sir, — When a man gives advice to his 
 " friends, on affairs of great importance to their in- 
 ** terest, he takes on himself a load of responsibility, 
 •* from which I have always shrunk, and generally
 
 Part III.] MoRBis BiRKBECR, Esq. 327 
 
 " withdrawn. My example is very much at their ser- 
 *' vice, either for imitation or warning, as the case 
 " may be. I must, however, in writing to you, step 
 *' a little over this line of caution, having more than 
 *' once been instrumental in helping you, not out of 
 •' your difficulties, but from one scene of perplexity to 
 " another ; I cannot help advising you to make an 
 *' effort more, and extricate yourself and family com- 
 " pletely, by removing into this country. — When I 
 '< last saw you, twelve months ago, I did not think 
 '* faiourably of your prospects : if things have turned 
 " out better, I shall be rejoiced to hear it, and you will 
 ** not need the advice I am preparing for you. But, 
 " if vexation and disappointments have assailed you, 
 " as I feared, and you can honourably make your 
 " escape, with the means of transmitting yourself hither, 
 " and one hundred pounds sterling to spare—- don't 
 " hesitate. In six months after I shall have welcomed 
 " you, barring accidents, you shall discover that you 
 ** are become rich, for you shall feel that you are in- 
 " dependent : and I think that Mill be the most delightful 
 " sensation you ever experienced : for, you will receive 
 '* it multiplied, as it were, by the number of your 
 " family as your troubles now are. It is not, however, 
 " a sort of independence that M'ill excuse you from 
 " labour, or afford you many luxuries, that is, costly 
 " luxuries. I will state to you what I have learned, 
 ♦* from a good deal of observation and inquiry, and a 
 " little experience ; then you will form your own judg- 
 " ment. In the first place, the voyage. That will 
 *' cost you, to Baltimore or Philadelphia, provided 
 " you take it, as no doubt you would, in the cheapest 
 '* way, twelve guineas each, for a birth, fire, and 
 " water, for yourself and wife, and half price, or less, 
 " for your children, besides provisions, which you will 
 " furnish. Then the journey. Over the mountains to 
 •' Pittsburgh, down the Ohio to Shawnee Town, and 
 " from thence to our settlement, fitly miles north, will 
 " amount to five pounds sterling per head. — If you 
 *' arrive here as early as May, or even June, another 
 " five pounds per head will carry you on to that point, 
 " where you may take your leave of dependence on any
 
 328 Letter ii. to [Part III. 
 
 *' thing earthly but your own exertions. — At this lime 1 
 " suppose you to have remaining one hundred pounds 
 ** (borrowed probably from English friends, who rely 
 " on your integrity, and who may have directed the 
 " interest to be paid to me en their behalf, and the 
 ** principal in due season.) — We will now, if you 
 *' please, turn it into dollars, and consider how it may 
 '■* be disposed of A hundred pounds sterling will go 
 •* a great way in dollars. With eighty dollars you will 
 *•* enter a quarter section of land ; that is, you will 
 " purchase at the land-office one hundred and sixty 
 " acres, and pay one-fourth of the purchase money, and 
 " looking to the land to reward your pains with the 
 " means 0^ discharging the other three-fourths as they 
 *' become; due, in two, three, and four years. — You will 
 " build a house with fifty dollars ; and you will find it 
 " extremely comfortable and convenient, as it M'ill be 
 " really and truly yours. Two horses Avill cost, with 
 " harness and plough, one hundred. — Cows, and hogs, 
 *' and seed corn, and fencing, with other expenses, will 
 ** require the remaining two hundred and ten dollars. — 
 " This beginning, humble as it appears, is affluence 
 " and splendour, compared with the original outfit of 
 " settlers in general. Yet no man remains in poverty, 
 •* who possesses even moderate industry and economy, 
 " and especially of time. — You would of course bring 
 " with you your sea-bedding and store of blankets, for 
 " you will need them on the Ohio ; and you should 
 *' leave England with a good stock of wearing apparel. 
 "Your luggage must be composed of light articles, 
 " on account of the costly land-carriage from the 
 " Eastern port to Pittsburgh, which will be from seven 
 *' to ten dollars per 100 lbs. nearly sixpence sterling 
 " per pound. A few simple medicines of good quality 
 " are indispensable, such as calomel, bark in powder, 
 " castor oil, calcined magnesia, laudanum ; they mav 
 '* be of the greatest importance on tlie voyage and 
 "journey, as well as after your arrival. — Change of 
 " climate and situation will produce temporary indis- 
 " position, but with prompt and judicious treatment, 
 " which is happily of the most simple kind, complaints 
 " to which new comers are liable are seklom dangerous
 
 Part III.] Morris Birkbeck, Esq. 32» 
 
 " or difficult to overcome, provided due regard has 
 '* been had to salubrity in the choice of their settle- 
 *' ment, and to diet and accommodation alter their 
 " arrival. 
 
 " With best regards, I remain, Sec." 
 
 622. Now, my dear Sir, your mode of address, in 
 this letter, clearly shews that yo\i have in your eye a 
 person above the level of common labourers. The 
 words " Dear Sir" indicate that you are speaking to a 
 friend, or, at least, to an intimate acquaintance ; of 
 
 coarse to a person, who has not been brought up in the 
 habits of hard labour. And such a person it is, whom 
 you advise and press to come to the Illinois with a 
 hundred pounds in his pocket to become n farmer ! 
 
 623. 1 will pass over the expenses previous to this 
 unfortunate man and his family's arriving at the Prairies, 
 though those expenses will be double the amount that you 
 state them at. But he arrives with 4-50 dollars in his 
 pocket. Of these he is to pay down 80 for his land, 
 leaving three times that sum to be paid afterwards. He 
 has 370 lett. And now what is he to do ? He arrives 
 in May. So that this family has to cross the sea in 
 Kinter, and the land in spring. There they are, how- 
 ever, and now what are they to do ? They are to have 
 built for 50 dollars a house " EXTREMELY COM- 
 " PORTABLE AND CONVENIENT."— the very 
 words that you use in describing the farmer's house, that 
 was to cost, with out-buildings, 1500 dollars! How- 
 ever, you have described your own cabin, whence we 
 may gather the meaning which you attach to the word 
 comfortable. " This cabin is built of round straight 
 " logs, about a foot in diameter, laying upon each other, 
 " and notched in at the corners, forming a room eighteen 
 •' feet long by sixteen ; the intervals between the logs 
 " ' chunked,' that is, filled in with slips of wood ; and 
 " ' mudded,' that is, daubed with a plaister of mud ; a 
 •* spacious chimney, built also of logs, stands like a 
 " bastion at one end ; the roof is well covered with four 
 •' hundred ' clap boards' of cleft oak, very much hke 
 *' the pales used in England for fencing parks. A hole 
 " is cut through the side called, very properly, the
 
 330 Letter ii. to [Part III. 
 
 " ' through,* for which there is a ' shutter,' made also of 
 " cleft oak, and hung on wooden hinges. All this has 
 *' been executed by contract, and well executed, for 
 " twenty dollars. I have since added ten dollars to the 
 " cost, for the luxury of a Jloor and ceiling of sawn 
 " boards, and it is now a comfortable habitation." 
 
 624. In plain words, this is a log-hut, such as the 
 free negroes live in about here, and a hole it is, fit only 
 for dogs, or hogs, or cattle. Worse it is than the negro 
 huts ; for they have a bit of glass ; but here is none. 
 This miserable hole, black with smoke as it always must 
 be, and without any window, costs, however, 30 dollars. 
 And yet this English acquaintance of yours is to have 
 " a house extremely comfortable and convenient for Jifty 
 " dollars." Perhaps his 50 dollars might get him a 
 hut, or hole, a few feet longer and divided into two dens. 
 So that here is to be cooking, washing, eating, and 
 sleeping all in the same " extremely convenient and 
 " comfortable" hole ! And yet, my dear Sir, you find 
 fault of the want of cleanliness in the Americans ! You 
 have not seen " the Americans." You have not seen 
 the nice, clean, neat houses of the farmers in this Island, 
 in New England, in the Quaker counties of Pennsyl- 
 vania. You have seen nothing but the smoke-flried 
 Ultra-montanians ; and your project seems to be to 
 make the deluded English who may follow you rivals in 
 the attainment of the tawny colour. What is this family 
 to do in their 50 dollar den ? Suppose one or more of 
 them sick ! How are the rest to sleep by night or to 
 eat by d ay I 
 
 625. However, here they are, in this miserable 
 place, with the ship-bedding, and without even a bed- 
 stead, and with 130 dollars gone in land and house. 
 Two horses and harness and plough are to cost 100 
 dollars ! These, like the hinges of the door, are all to 
 be of wood I suppose ; for as to flesh and blood and 
 bones in the form of two horses far 100 dollars, is 
 impossible, to say nothing about the plough and 
 harness, which would cost 20 dollars of the money. 
 Perhaps, however, you may mean some of those horses, 
 ploughs and sets of harness, which, at the time when yon 
 wrote this letter, you had all ready waiting for the
 
 Part III.] Morris Birkbeck, Esq. 381 
 
 spring to put in your hundred acres of com that was 
 Tiever put in at all! However, let this pass too. Then 
 there are 220 dollars left, and these are to provide 
 cows, hogs, seed, corn, fencing, and other expenses. 
 Next come two cows (poor ones) 24 dollars; hogs, 15 
 dollars ; seed corn, B dollars ; fencing, suppose 20 acres 
 only, in four plots, the stuff brought from the woods 
 nearest adjoining. Here are 360 rods of fencing, and, 
 if it be done so as to keep out a pig, and to keep in a 
 
 Fig, or a horse or cow, for less than half a dollar a rod, 
 will suffer myself to be made into smoked meat in the 
 extremely comfortable house. Thus, then, here are 
 213 out of the 220 dollars, and this happy settler has 
 seven whole dollars left for all " other expenses;'' 
 amongst which are the cost of cooking utensils, plates, 
 knives and Ibrks, tables, and stools ; for, as to table-cloths 
 and chairs, those are luxuries unbecoming " simple 
 " republicans." But, there must be a pot to boil in ; 
 or, is that too much ? May these republicans have a 
 washing tub ? Perhaps, indeed, it will become unne- 
 cessary in a short time ; for, the lice will have eaten up 
 the linen ; and, besides, perhaps, real independence 
 means stark-nakedness. But, at any rate, the hogs 
 must have a trough ; or, are they to eat at the same 
 board with the family ! Talking of eating puts me in 
 mind of a great article ; for what are the family to eat 
 during the year and more before their land can produce ? 
 For even if they arrive in May, they can have no crop 
 that year. Why, they must graze with the cows in the 
 Prairies, or snuggle with the hogs in the woods. An 
 oven! Childish effeminacy! Oh I unleavened bread 
 for your life. Bread, did I say ? Where is the " inde- 
 " pendent" family to get bread I Oh ! no ! Grass and 
 Acorns and Roots! and, God be praised, you have 
 
 {>lenty of water in your wells, though, perhaps, the 
 amily, with all their " independence," must be com- 
 pelled to depend on your leave to get it, and fetch it half 
 a mile into the bargain. 
 
 626. To talk seriously npon such a subject is im- 
 possible, without dealing in terms of reprobation, which 
 it would give me great pain to employ when speaking of 
 any act of yours. Indeed such a family will he free;
 
 382 Letter ii. to [Part III. 
 
 but, the Indians are free, and so are the gypsies in 
 England. And I most solemnly declare, that 1 would 
 sooner live the life of a gypsy in England, than be a. 
 settler, with less than five thousand pounds, in the Illi- 
 nois ; and, if I had the five thousand pounds, and was 
 resolved to exchange England for America, >vhat in the 
 name of common sense, should induce me to go into a 
 wild country, when I could buy a good farm of 200 
 acres, with fine orchard and good house and out-build- 
 ings, and stock it completely, and make it rich as a 
 garden, within twenty miles of a great sea-port, af- 
 fording me a ready market and a high price tor every 
 article of my produce I 
 
 627. You have, by this time, seen more than you 
 had seen, when you wrote your " Letters from the 
 " lUinois." You Mould not, I am convinced, write such 
 letters noio. But, lest you should not do it, it is right 
 that somebody should counteract their delusive effects; 
 and this I endeavour to do as much lor the sake of this 
 country as tor that of ray own countrymen. For a good 
 while I remained silent, hoping that few people would 
 be deluded ; but when I heard, that an old friend, and 
 brother sportsman; a sensible, honest, frank, and 
 friendly man, in Oxfordshire, whom 1 will not name, 
 had been seized with the Illinois madness, and when I 
 recollected, that he Mas one of those, who came to visit 
 me in prison, I could no longer hold my tongue : for, if 
 a man like him ; a man of his sound understanding, 
 could be carried away by your representations, to what 
 an extent must the rage have gone ! 
 
 628. Mr. HuLME visited you with the most friendly 
 feelings. He agrees with you perfectly as to notions 
 about forms of government. He wished to give a good 
 account of your proceedings. His account is favour- 
 able; but h\^ facts, which I am sure are true, let out 
 what I could not have known for certainty from anv 
 other quarter. However, I do not care a farthing lor 
 the degrees of goodness or of badness ; I say all new 
 countries are all badness for English farmers. I say, 
 that their place is near the great cities on the coast ; 
 and that every step they go beyond forty miles from 
 those cities is a step too far. Thev ivant freedoin : they
 
 Part III.] Morris Birkbeck, Esq. 333 
 
 have it here. They want gowl land, good roads, good 
 markets : they have them all here. What should they 
 run rambling about a nation-making for I What have 
 they to do about extending dominion and " taming the 
 " wilderness r' If they speculate upon becoming 
 founders of republics, they will, indeed, do well to get 
 out of the reach of rivals. Jf they have a thirst for 
 power, they will naturally seek to be amongst the least 
 informed part of mankind. But, if they only want to 
 keep their property and live well, tliey will take up their 
 abode on this side of the mountains at least. 
 
 629. The grand ideas about the extension of the 
 empire of the United States are of very questionable 
 soundness: and they become more questionable from 
 being echoed by the Edinburgh Reviewers, a set of the 
 meanest politicians that ever touched pen and paper. 
 Upon any great question, they never have been right, 
 even by accident, which is very hard ! The rapid ex- 
 tension of settlements to the West of the mountains, is, 
 in my opinion, by no means iavourable to the duration 
 of the present happy Union. The conquest of Canada 
 would have been as dangerous ; but not more dangerous. 
 A nation is never so strong and so safe as when its ex- 
 treme points feel for each other as acutely as each feels 
 for itself; and this never can be when all are not equally 
 exposed to every danger ; and especially when all the 
 parts have not the same interests. In case of a M'ar 
 with England, what would become ofyour market down 
 the Mississippi ? That is your sole market. That way 
 your produce must go ; or you must dress yourself in 
 skins and tear your food to biis with your hands. Yet 
 that way your produce could not go, unless this nation 
 were to keep up a Navy equal to that of England. De- 
 fend the country against invaders I know the people 
 always will ; but, I am not sure, that they will like in- 
 ternal taxes sufficient to rear and support a Navy suffi- 
 cient to clear the gulf of Mexico of English squadrons. 
 In short, it is my decided opinion, that the sooner the 
 banks of the Ohio, the Wabash, and the Mississippi, 
 are pretty thickly settled, the sooner the Union 
 •will be placed in jeopardy. If a war were to break 
 out with England, even in a few years, the lands 
 of which the Mississippi k the outlet would lose a great
 
 334 Letter ii. to [Part III. 
 
 part of their value. Who does not see in this fact a 
 great cause of disunion ? On this side the mountains^ 
 there are twelve hundred miles of coast to blockade ; 
 but you, gentlemen Prairie owners, are like a rat that 
 has but one hole to go out and to come in at. You ex- 
 press your deep-rooted attachment to your adopted 
 country, and [ am sure you are sincere ; but, still I may 
 be allowed to doubt, whether you would cheerfully wear 
 bear-skins, and gnaw your meat off the bones for the 
 sake of any commercial right that the nation might go to 
 war about. I know that you would not starve ; for coiPee 
 and tea are not necessarj'^ to man's existence ; but, you 
 would like to sell your flour and pork, and would be 
 very apt to discover reasons against a war that would 
 prevent you from selling them. You appear to think it 
 very vricked in the Atlantic People to feel little eager- 
 ness in promoting the increase of population to the 
 Westward ; but, you see, that, in this want of such 
 eagerness, they may be actuated by a real love for their 
 country. For my part, 1 think it would have been good 
 policy in the Congress not to dispose of the Western 
 Lands at all ; and I am sure it would have been an act 
 of real charity. 
 
 630. Having now performed what I deemed my 
 duty towards my countrymen, and towards this country 
 too, I wiU conclude my letter with a few observations, 
 relative to mills, which may be of use to you ; for, I 
 know, that you will go on ; and, indeed, I most sincerely 
 wish you all the success that you can wish yourself, 
 without doing harm to others. 
 
 631 . You have no mill streams near you ; and you 
 are about to erect a wind-mill. Man is naturally prone 
 to call to his aid whatever will save his bones laoour. 
 The water, the tvind, the Jire : any thing that will help 
 him. Cattle of some sort or other were, for a long 
 while, his great resource. But, of late, water-powers, 
 wind-powers, fire-powers. And, indeed, wondrous 
 things have been performed by machines of this kind. 
 The water and the wind do not eat, and require no 
 grooming. But, it sometimes happens, that, when all 
 things are considered, we resort to these grand powers 
 without any necessity for it; and that we forget how 
 ewily we could do the thing we want done, with our own
 
 • si 
 
 Part III.] Morris Birrbeck, Esq. 33o 
 
 hands. The story, in Peregrine Pickle, about the 
 Mechanic, who had invented a water machine to cut off 
 the head of a cabbage, hardly surpassed the reality m 
 the case of the machine, brought out in England, some 
 years ago, /or reaping wheat ; nor is it much les^ ridi- 
 culous to see people going many miles with grist to a 
 mill, which grist they might so easily grind at home. 
 The hand-mills, used in England, would be invaluable 
 with you, for a while, at least. 
 
 632. But, it is of a mill of more general utility, that I 
 am now about to speak to you ; and, 1 seriously recom«^ 
 mend it to your consideration, as well as to other persons 
 similarly situated. 
 
 633. At Botley I lived surrounded by water-mills 
 and wind-mills. There were eight or ten within five 
 miles of me, and one at two hundred yards from my 
 house. Still I thought, that it was a brutal sort of thing 
 to be obliged to send twice to a mill, with all the uncer- 
 tainties of the business, in order to have a sack of wheat 
 or of barley ground. I sent for a miUwTight, and, 
 after making all the calculations, 1 resolved to have a 
 mill in my farm yard, to grind for myself, and to sell 
 my wheat in the shape of flour. I had the mill erected 
 in a pretty little bam, well floored with oak, and stand- 
 ing upon stones with caps : so that no rats or mice 
 could annoy me. The mill was to be moved by horse$y 
 for which, to shelter them from the wet, 1 had a shed 
 with a circular roof erected on the outside of the bam. 
 Under this roof, as well as I recollect, there was a large 
 wheel, which the horses turned, and a bar, going from 
 that wheel, passed through into the barn, and there it 
 put the whole machinery in motion. 
 
 634. I have no skill in mechanics. I do not, and 
 did not, know one thing from another by its name. All 
 I looked to was the effect ; and this was complete. I 
 had excellent floiir. All my meal was ground at home. 
 I was never bothered with sending to the mill. My ear» 
 were never after dinned with complaints about badjlour 
 and heavy bread. It was the prettiest, most convenient, 
 and most valuable thing I had upon my farm. It was, 
 I think, put up in 1816, and this was one of the plea- 
 sures, from which the Borough-villains (God coDwund
 
 336 Letter ii. to [Part III. 
 
 them !) drove me in 1817. I think it cost me about a 
 hundred pounds. I forget, whether I had sold anj 
 flour from it to the Bakers. But, independent of that, 
 it was very valuable. I think we ground and dressed 
 about forty bushels of wheat in a day ; and , we used 
 to work at it on wet days, and when we could not work 
 in the fields. We never were stopped l)y want of wind 
 or water. The horses were always ready ; and / know, 
 that our grinding was done at one half the expense at 
 which it was done by the millers. 
 
 635. The farmers and millers used to sav-, that I 
 saved nothing by my mill. Indeed, gain was not my 
 object, except in convenience. I hated the sudden calls 
 for going to the mill. They produced irregularity ; 
 and, besides, the millers were not more honest than 
 other people. Their mills contained all sorts of grain ; 
 and, in their confusion, we sometimes got hadjiour from 
 good wheat: an accident that never happened to us 
 after we got our own mill. But, as to the gai?i, I have 
 just received a letter from my son. informing me, that 
 the gentleman, a farmer born and bred, who rents my 
 farm in my absence, sells no wheat ; that he grinds alt : 
 that he sells flour all round the country ; and that this 
 flour is -preferred before that of the millers. I was 
 quite delighted to hear this news of my little mill. It 
 awakened many recollections ; and I immediately 
 thought of comnmnicating the facts to the public, and 
 particularlj' to you. 
 
 636. You will observe, that my farm is situated in 
 the midst of mills. So that, you may be sure, that the 
 things answers, or it would not be carried on. If it 
 were not attended with gain, it would not be put in 
 motion. I was convinced, that any man might grind 
 cheaper with a horse-mill than with a water or wind- 
 mill, and now the fact is proved. For, observe, the mill 
 costs nothing for scite ; it occupies a very small space ; 
 it is independent of Avind and water ; no floods or gales 
 can affect it. 
 
 637. Now, then, if such a mill be preferable to wind 
 or water-mills in a place where both abound, how useful 
 must it be in a situation like yours ? Such a mill would 
 amply supply about three hundred iamilies, if kept con-
 
 Part III.] Morris Birkbeck, Esq. 337 
 
 stantly at work. And then, it is so much more con- 
 venient than a windmill. A windmill is necessarily a 
 most unhandy thing. The grain has to be hauled up 
 and the flour let down. The building is a place of 710 
 capacity ; and, there is great danger attending the ma- 
 nagement of it. My project is merely a neat, close 
 barn, standing upon stones that rats and mice cannot 
 creep up. The wagon comes to the door, the sacks 
 are handed in and out ; and every thing is so con- 
 venient and easily performed, that it is a pleasure to 
 behold it. 
 
 '638. About the construction of the mill I know 
 nothing. 1 know only the effect, and that it is worked 
 by horses, in the manner that I have described. 1 had 
 710 Miller. My Bailiff, whom I had made a Bailiff out 
 of a Carpenter, I turned into a Miller ; or, rather, I 
 made him look after the thing. Any of the men, how- 
 ever, could do the millering very well. Any of them 
 could make bettei- flour than the water and wind-millers 
 *tised to make for us. So that there is no mystery in the 
 matter. 
 
 639. This country abounds in excellent millwrights. 
 The best, I dare say, in the world ; and, if I were settled 
 here as a farmer in a large way, I would soon have a 
 little mill, and send away my produce in flour instead 
 of wheat. If a farmer has to send frequently to the 
 mill, (and that he must do, if he have a great quantity 
 of stock and a large family,) the very expense o{ send- 
 ing will pay for a mill in two or three } ears. 
 
 640. 1 shall be glad if this piece of information 
 should be of use to any body, and particularly if it 
 should be of any use in the Prairies ; for, God knows, 
 you will have plague enough without sending to mill, 
 which is, of itself, no small plague even in a Christian 
 country. About the same strength that turns a threshing 
 machine, turned my mill. I can give no information 
 about the construction. I know there was a hopper and 
 stones, and that the thing made a clinking noise like the 
 water-mills. I know that the whole affair occupied but 
 a small space. My bam was about forty feet long and 
 eighteen t'eet wide, and the mill stood at one end of it, 
 
 Q
 
 §|§ Letter n. TO [Part III. 
 
 The man who made it lor me, and with whom I made 
 a bargain in writing, wanted me to agree to a specifica- 
 tion of the thing rhvA I declined having any thing to 
 do with cogs and icheels, and persisted in stipulating for 
 effects. And these were, that with a certain force of 
 horses, it was to make so much fine flour in so long a 
 time ; and this bargain he very faithfully fulfilled. The 
 price was I think seventy pounds, and the putting up 
 and altogether made the amount about a hundred 
 pounds. There were no heavy timbers in any part of 
 the thing. There was not a bit of wood, in any part 
 of the construction, so big as my thigh. The whole 
 thing might have been carried away, all at once, very 
 conveniently, in one of my wagons. 
 
 641. There is another thing, which I beg leave to 
 recommend to your attention ; and that is, the use of 
 the BrootU'Corit Stalks as thatch. The co\'erings of 
 barns and other out-houses with shingles makes them 
 fiery hot in summer, so that it is dangerous to be at 
 work in making mows near them in very hot weather. 
 The heat they cause in the upper parts of houses, 
 though there be a ceiling under them is intolerable. In 
 the very hot weather I always bring my bed down to 
 the ground-floor. Thatch is cool. Cool in summer 
 and warm in winter. Its inconveniences are danger 
 from Jire and want of durability. The former is no 
 great deal greater than that of shingles. The latter 
 may be wholly removed by the use of the Broom-Corn 
 Stalks. In England a good thatch of wheat-straw will last 
 twelve or fifteen years. If this straw be reeded, as they 
 do it in the counties of Dorset and Devon, it will last 
 thirty years ; and it is very beautiful. The little town 
 of Ch.\rmouth, which is all thatched, is one of the 
 prettiest places I ever saw. What beautiful thatching 
 might be made in this country, where the straw is so 
 sound and so clean ! A Dorsetshire thatcher might, upon 
 this very island, make himself a decent fortune in a few 
 years. They do cover bams with straw here sometimes; 
 but how one of our thatchers would laugh at the work ! 
 Let me digress here, for a moment, to ask you if you 
 have got a sow-spayer? We have no such roan here.
 
 Part III.] Morris Biskbeck, Esq. ' 339 
 
 What a loss arises from this ! What a plague it is. We 
 cannot keep a whole farrow of pigs, unless we breed 
 from all the sows ! They go away : they plague us to 
 death. Many a man in England, now as poor as an 
 owlet, would (if he kept from the infernal drink) 
 become rich here in a short time. These sow-gelders, 
 as they call ihem, swarm in England. Any clown of a 
 fellow follows this callina:, which is hardly two decrees 
 above rat-catching and mole-catching: and yet there i 
 no such person here, where swine are so numerous, and 
 where so many millions are fatted for exportation 
 It is very strange ! 
 
 642. To return to the thatching : Straw is not so 
 durable as one eoidd wish : besides, in very high winds, 
 it is liable, if not reeded, to be ruffed a good deal ; and 
 the reeding, which is almost like counting the straws 
 one by one, is expensive. In England we sometimes 
 thatch with reerfs, which in Hampshire, are called spear. 
 This is an aquatic plant. It grows in the water, and 
 will grow no where else. When stout it is of the 
 thickness of a small cane at the bottom, and is about 
 four or five feet long. 1 have seen a thatch of it, which, 
 with a little patching, had lasted upwards of Jifti/ years. 
 In gentlemen's gardens, there are sometimes hedges 
 or screens made of these reeds. They last, if well put 
 up, half a century, and are singularly neat, while they 
 
 Earry the wind much belter than paling or walls, 
 ecause there is no eddy proceeding Irom their repid- 
 sion. They are generally put round those parts of the 
 garden where the hot-beds are. 
 
 643. Now, the Kroom-Corn far surpasses the reeds 
 in all respects. 1 intend, -i« my Book on Gardening, 
 to give a full account of the applicability of this plant 
 to garden-uses both here and in England ; for, as to the 
 reeds, they can seldom be had, and a screen of them 
 comes, in most parts of England, to more money than 
 a paling of oak. But, the Broom-Corn! What an 
 useful thing! What quantities upon an acre of land 
 Ten feet hic/h, and mote durable than reeds ! Tht 
 seed-stems, with a bit of the stem of the plant, make 
 the brooms. These, I hear, are now sent to England. 
 
 Q 2
 
 340 Letter ii. to [Part III; 
 
 I have often talked of it in England as a good traffic. 
 We here sweep stables and streets with what the 
 English sweep their carpets with ! You can buy as 
 good a broom at New York for eightpence sterling as 
 you can buy in London for five shillings sterling^ and 
 the freight cannot exceed twopence or threepence, if 
 sent without handles. I bought a clothes-brush, an 
 English clothes-brush, the other day for three shillings 
 sterling. It was made of a farthing's tvorth of alder 
 wood and of half a farthing's worth of Broom-Corn. 
 An excellent brush. Better than bristles. I have 
 Broom-Corn and Seed-Stems enough to make fifty 
 thousand such brushes. I really think I shall send it 
 to England. It is now lying about my barn, and the 
 chickens are living upon the seeds. This plant demands 
 greater heat even than the Indian Corn. It would 
 hardly ripen its seed in England Indeed it would not. 
 But, if well managed, it would produce a prodigious 
 crop of materials lor reed-hedges and thatch. It is of 
 a substance (I mean the main stalk) between that of a 
 cane and that of a reed. It has joints precisely like 
 those of the canes, which you may have seen the Bo- 
 roughmonger's sons and footmen strut about with, called 
 bamboos. The seed-stalks, which make the brooms and 
 brushes, might not get so mature in England as to be so 
 good as they are here for those uses : but, I have no • 
 doubt, that, in any of the warm lands in Surrey, or 
 Kent, or Hampshire, a man might raise upon an acre 
 a crop worth several hundred pounds. The very stout 
 stalks, if properly harvested and applied, would last 
 nearly as long as the best hurdle rods. What beautiful 
 screens they would make in gardens and pleasure 
 grounds ! Ten feet long, and straight as a gun stick ! 
 i shall send some of the seed to England this year, and 
 cause a trial to be made ; and I will, in my Gardening 
 Book, give full instructions for the cultivation. Of this 
 book, which will be published soon, I would, if you 
 lived in this world, send you a copy. These are the 
 best uses of maritime intercourse : the interchange of 
 plants, animals, and improvements of all sorts. I am 
 doing my best to repay this country for the protection
 
 Part III.] Morris Birkbeck, Esq. 341 
 
 which it has given me against our indemnijied tyrants. 
 " Cobbett's pigs and Swedish turnips" will be talked 
 of long after the bones of Ellenborough, Gibbs, Sid- 
 mouth, Castlereagh and Jenkinson will be rotten, and 
 their names forgotten, or onljf remembered when ray 
 "trash" shall. 
 
 644. This is a rambling sort of Letter. I now come 
 back to the Broom-Corn for thatch. Sow it in roics 
 about five feet asunder ; or, rather, on ridr/cs, a foot 
 wide at the top, with an interval ol' five feet ; let the 
 plants stand all over this foot wide, at about three inches 
 apart, or less. Keep the plants clear of Aveeds by a 
 couple of weedings, and plotigk tcell between the ridges 
 three or four limes during the summer. This will make 
 the plants grow tall, while their closeness to each other 
 will make them small in thickness of stem or stalk. It 
 will bring them to about the thickness of fine large reeds 
 in England, and to about twice the length ; and, I will 
 engage, that a large barn may be covered, by a good 
 thatcher, with the stalks, in tico days, and that the 
 covering shall last for fifty years. Only think of the 
 price of shingles and nails ! Only think of the cost of 
 tiles in Eiiglaufl ' Onl^ think of the expense of draw- 
 ing or of reeding straw in England ! 0"ly think of" 
 going into the tcater to collect reeds in England, even 
 where they are to be had at all, which is in a very few 
 places ! 'I'he very first thing that 1 would do, if I were 
 to settle in a place where I had buildings to erect, would 
 be to sow some Broom-Corn ; that is to say, sow some 
 roofs. What a fine thing this would bo upon the farms 
 in England ! What a convenient thing lor the cottagers ! 
 Thatch for their pretty little houses, for their siies, for 
 their fuel-house, their cow-shed ; and brooms into the 
 bargain ; lor, though the seed woukl not ripen, and 
 though the broom-part would not be of the best quality, 
 it would be a thousand times better than heath. The 
 seed might be sent from this country, and, though the 
 Borough-villains would ta.v it, as their rapacious system 
 does EVEN THE SEEDS OF TREES ; yet, a 
 small quantity of seed would suffice. 
 
 645. As an ornamental plant nothing equals this.
 
 342 Latteh it. w (TPartllK 
 
 The Indian Corn is far inferior to it in this respect. 
 Planted by the side of walks in gardens, what beautifut 
 avenues it would make for the summer ! I have seen 
 the plants eighteen feet arid a half high. I always 
 wanted to get some seed in England ; but, I never could. 
 My friends thought it too childish and whimsical a thing 
 to attend to. If the plant should so far come to perfec- 
 tion in England as to }ield the broom-materials, it will 
 be a great thing; and, if it fall short of that, it will cer- 
 tainly surpass reeds for thatching and screening pur- 
 poses, for sheep-yards, and for various other uses. 
 However, I have no doubt of its producing brooms ; for, 
 the Indian Corn, though only certain sorts of it will 
 ripen its seed even in Hampshire, will always come 
 into bloom, and, in the Broom-Corn, it is the little 
 stalks, or branches, out of which the flower comes, that 
 makes the broom. If the plant succeed thus far in 
 England, you may be sure that the Borough-villains 
 will tax the brooms, until their system be blown to 
 atoms ; and, I should not wonder if they were to make 
 the broom, like hops, an article of excise, and send 
 their spies into people's fields and gardens to see that 
 the revenue was not " defrauded" Prpeions villains ! 
 Thoj stand betvveeij the people and all the gifts of 
 nature ! But this cannot last. 
 
 646. I am happy to tell you, that Ellenborough and 
 Gibbs have rcUred! Ill health is the pretence. I 
 never yet kncAv ill health induce such fellows to loosen 
 their grasp of the public purse. But, be it so : then I 
 feel pleasure on that account. To all the other pangs 
 of body and mind let them add that of knowing, that 
 William Cobbett, whom they thought they had put down 
 for ever, if not killed, lives to rejoice at their pains and 
 their death, to trample on their graves, and to hand 
 down their names for the just judgment of posterity. 
 What! are these feelings wrong? Are they sinful? 
 What defence have we, then, against tyranny ? If the 
 oppressor be not to experience the resentment of the 
 oppressed, let us at once acknowledge the divine right 
 oi' tyranny ; for, what has tyranny else to fear '? Who 
 has it to fear, but those whom it has injured I It is the
 
 Part III.] MoRnis Birkbeck, fiso, S4S 
 
 aggregate of individual injury that makes up national 
 injury : it is the aggregate of individual resentment that 
 makes up national resentment. National resentment is 
 absolutely necessary to the producing of redress for 
 oppression ; and, therefore, to say that individual resent- 
 ment is wrong, is to say, that there ought to be no 
 redress for oppression : it is, in short, to pass a sen- 
 tence of never-ending sla^ ery on all mankind. Some 
 Local Militiamen ; young fellows who had been com- 
 pelted to become soldiers, and who l:ad no knowledge 
 of military discipline; who had, by the Act of Parlia- 
 ment, been promised ar/itinea each before they marched; 
 who had refused to march because the gxeinea had not 
 been wholly paid them; some of these young men, these 
 mere boys, had, for this mutiny, as it was called, been 
 foriged at Ely in Cambridgeshire, under a guard of 
 German baxjonets and sabres. At this I expressed mif 
 indir/nation in the strongest terms; and, for doing this, 
 I was put for tico years into a gaol along with men con- 
 victed of nnnaturul crimes, robbery, and under charge 
 of murder, and where Astlet was, who was under sen- 
 tence of death. To this was added a fine of a thousand 
 jiouuds sterling ; and, when the two years should ex- 
 pire, bunds for the peucz and good behaviour for eofejt 
 years! The seven years are not yet expired. I will 
 endeavour to be of " <70orf behaviour" for the short 
 space that is to come ; and, I am sure, I have behaved 
 well for the past ; for never were seven years of such 
 efficient exertion seen in the life of any individual. 
 
 647. The tyrants are hard pushed no^y. The Bank 
 Notes are their only ground to stand on ; and that ground 
 tcillbe moved from under them in a little time. Strange 
 changes since you left England, short as the time has 
 been ! I am iully of opinion, that my /o«j- years which 
 I gave the systena at my coming away, will see the end 
 of it. There can be no more war carried on by them. 
 I see they have had Baring, of Loan-notoriety at the 
 Holy Alliance-Congress. He has been stipulating for 
 a supply of paper-money. They should have got ray 
 consent to let the paper-money remain ; for, lean destroy 
 it whenever J please. All sorts of projects are on foot.
 
 344 Letter ii. to M. Birkbeck, Esq. [Part III. 
 
 " Inimitable Notes;" paying in npecle by tc eight of 
 metal Oh! the wondrous fools ! A sudden blow-up ; 
 or, a blow-up somewhat slow, by ruin and starvation ; 
 one ot these must come ; unless they speedily reduce the 
 interest of the Debt ; and even that will not save the 
 seat-dealers. 
 
 648. In the meanwhile let us enjoy ourselves here 
 amongst this kind and hospitable people ; but, let us 
 never forget, that England is our country, and that her 
 treedom and renown ought to be as dear to us as the 
 blood HI our veins. God bless you, and give you health 
 and happmess. 
 
 Wm. cobbett.
 
 C 34& ] 
 
 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 RUTA BAGA; or, SWEDISH TURXIP. 
 
 To THE E0ITOU OF TUE NeW YoRK E VEXING PoST. 
 
 Hyde Park, Ijins-hland, 
 SIB, 3(i Jan. 1819. 
 
 649. My publications of last yesir, on the amount of 
 the crops of Riita Bas^a, were, by many persons, con- 
 sidered romantic; or, at best, a good deal strained. I 
 am happy, therefore, to be able to communicate to the 
 public, through your obliging columns, a letter ironi an 
 American farmer on the subject. You may remember, 
 if yon did me the honour to read my Treatise on tiie 
 cultivation of this root (in Part I. of the Year's Resi- 
 dence), that I carried the amount ol" my best Botley- 
 crops no higher than one thousand three hundred husl eh 
 to the acre. The following interesting letter will, I 
 think, convince every one, that I kept, in all iny state- 
 ments, below the mark. IJere we have an average 
 weight of roots of .su- pounds and a hatf. 
 
 (350. I beg 3Ir. Towxseno to accept of my best 
 thanks for his letter, which has given me very great 
 satisfaction, and which will, I am sure, be of great use 
 in promf>ting the cultivation of this valuable root. 
 
 651. Many gentlemen have writ'en to me with re- 
 gard to the n\Ui\eo\' preserrin(i the Ruta Baga. I have, 
 in the SECOND PART of my Years liesidciicti, 
 which will he published at New York, in a Jew days, 
 given a very full account of this matter. 
 1 am, Sir, your most humble 
 
 And most obedient Servant, 
 
 Wm. cobbett. 
 
 Q 5
 
 346 Postscript. [Part 111. 
 
 DFAK si!{ New York, Dec. 30, 1818. 
 
 G52. I TAKE the liberty of sending to you the follow- 
 ing experiments upon the culture oT _NOur Ruta Baga, 
 made by my uncie, Isaac Townsend, Esq. of Orange 
 County, in ihis Slate. The seeds were procured from 
 your slock, and the experiments, 1 think, will tend to 
 corroborate the sentiments which you have so laudably 
 and so successfully inculcated on the subject of this 
 interesting article of agriculture. 
 
 653. A piece of strong dry loam ten feet square on 
 the N.E. side of a mountain in Moreau township, 
 Orange County, was thoroughly cleared of stones, and 
 dug up twelve inches deep, oij the 10th of June last; it 
 was then covered b^' a mixture of ten bushels of char- 
 coal dust and twenty bushels of black swamp mould, 
 which was well harrowed in. About the 9lh of July it 
 was sown with your Ruta Baga in drills of twenty inches 
 apart, the turnips being ten inches distant from each 
 other. They came up badly and were weeded out on 
 the 10th of August. On the 15th of August a table- 
 spoonful of ashes was put round every turnip, Avhich 
 operation was repeated on the 20th of September. The 
 ground was kept perfectly clean through the whole sea- 
 son. Six seeds of the common turnip were by accident 
 dropped into the patch, and received the same atten- 
 tion as the rest. These common turnips weighed two 
 pounds a piece. The whole yield of the Ruta Baga 
 was three bushels, each turnip weighing from four 
 to eight pounds. The roots penetrated about twelve 
 inches into the ground, although the season was remark- 
 ably dry. 
 
 654. A piece of rich, moist, loamy land, containing 
 four square rods, was ploughed twice in June, and the 
 seeds of your Ruta Baga sown on the 4th of July in 
 broad cast, and kept clean through the season. This 
 patch produced twenty-Jive bvsheh of turnips, each 
 turnip weighing from lour to nine pounds. This, you 
 perceive, is at the enormous rate of 1000 bushels an 
 acre !
 
 Part III.l Postscript. 147 
 
 655. It is Mr. Townsend's opinion, that on some of 
 the soils of Orange County your Ruta Baga may be 
 made to jield 1 500 bushels an acre. 
 
 I remain, with much respect, 
 
 Your obedient Servant, 
 
 P. S. TOWNSEND. 
 
 William Cobbett, Esq. 
 
 Hyde Park, Long Itlond.
 
 L 348 ] 
 
 SECOND POSTSCRIPT, 
 
 FEARON'S FALSHOODS. 
 
 To THE Editor of the National Advocate. 
 
 SIR, HtidePark, Jan.Qtb, 1819. 
 
 656. Befoue 1 saw your paper of the day before 
 yesterday, giving some extracts from a book published 
 in England by one Fearon, J had Avritten part of the 
 following article, and had prepared to send it home as 
 part of a Register, of m hich I send one every Aveek. 
 Your paper enabled me to make an addition lo the 
 article; and, in the few words below, I have this day 
 sent the whole off to be published in London. If you 
 think it worth inserting, I beg you to ha^e the goodness 
 to give it a place ; and I beg the same favour at the 
 hands of all those editors who may have published 
 Fearon's account of what he calls his visit to me. 
 
 I am, Sir, 
 Your most obedient, 
 
 And most humble Servant, 
 
 Wm. cobbett. 
 
 657. There is, I am told, one Fearox, who has gone 
 home and written ami published a book, abusinq this 
 rountn/ and its people in the f/7'ossest manner. I only 
 liear of it by letter. 1 hear, also, that he speaks of me 
 as il' he knew me. I will tell you how far he knew me : 
 I live at a country house 20 miles I'rom ]\ew York. 
 One morning, in the summer of 1817, a young man 
 came into the hall, and introduced himself to me under 
 the name of Fear on. The following I find about him
 
 Part III.] Second Postscript. 349 
 
 in my journal: — " A Mr. Feabov came this morning 
 " and had breakfast with us. Told us an odd story 
 " about having slept in a black woman's hut last night 
 " for sixpence, though there are excellent taverns at 
 " every two miles along the road. Told us a still odder 
 " story about his being an envoy from a host of families 
 " in London, to look out for a place of settlement in 
 " America ; but he took special care not to name any 
 " one of those families, though we asked him to do it. 
 " We took him, at first, for a sort of spij. William 
 " thinks he is a shopkeeper's clerk; I think he has 
 " been a tailor. I observed that he carried his elbow 
 " close to his sides, and his arms, below the elbow, in 
 " a horizontal position. It came out that he had been 
 " with BucHAXAx, Casllereagh's consul at New York ; 
 " but it is too ridiculous ; such a thing as this cannot 
 " be a spy ; he can get access nowhere but to taverns 
 " and boarding houses." 
 
 6.t8. This note now stands in my journal or diary of 
 22d August 1817. I remember that he asked me some 
 very silly questions about the prices of land, cattle, and 
 other things, which I answered very shortly. He asked 
 my advice about the families emigrating, and the very 
 words I uttered in answer were these : — " Every thing 
 " 1 can say, in such a case, is to discourage the enter- 
 " prize, if Englishmen come here, let them come 
 " individually, and sit down amongst the natives : no 
 " other plan is rational." 
 
 659. What 1 have heard of this man since, is, that he 
 spent his time, or great part of it, in New York, amongst 
 the idle and dissolute young Englishmen, whose laziness 
 and extravagance had put them in a state to make them 
 uneasy, and to make them unnoticed by respectable 
 people. That country must be bad, to be sure, which 
 would not give them ease and abundance without labour 
 or econoi/n/. 
 
 660. Now, M-hat can such a man know of America? 
 He has not kept house ; he has had no being in any 
 neighbourhood ; he has never had any circle of acquaint- 
 ances amongst the people ; he has never been a c/uest 
 under any of their roofs ; he knows nothing of their 
 manners or their characters; and how can such a man
 
 850 Second Postscript. [Part III. 
 
 be a judge of the effects of their institutions, civil, poli- 
 tical, or religious 1 
 
 661, 1 have no doubt, however, that the reviews and 
 newspapers, in the pay of the Boroughmongers, will do 
 their best to propagate the falshoods contained in this 
 man's book. But what would you say of the people of 
 America, if they were to affect to believe Avhat the French 
 General said of the people of England ? This man, in 
 a book which he published in France, said, that all the 
 English married women got drunk, and swore like 
 troopers ; and that all the young women were strum- 
 pets, and that the greater part of them had bastards 
 before they ivere married. Now, if the people of Ame- 
 rice were to affect to believe this, what should tve say of 
 them 1 Yet, this is just as true as this Fearon's account 
 of the people of America. 
 
 662. As to the facts of this man's visit to me, my son 
 William, who is, by this time, in London, can and will 
 vouch for their truth at any time, and, if necessary, 
 to Fearon's face, if Fearon has a face which he dares 
 
 663. Since writing the above, the New York papers 
 have brought me a specimen of Mr. Fearon's perform- 
 ance. I shall notice only his account of his visit to me. 
 It is in the following words : 
 
 664. " A Visit to Mr. Cobbett. — ^Upon arriving at 
 " Mr. Cobbett's gate, my feelings, in walking along 
 " the path which led to the residence of this celebrated 
 " man are difficult to describe. The idea of a person 
 " self-banished, leading an isolated life in a foreign 
 " land ; a path rarely trod, fences in ruins, the gate 
 " broken, a house mouldering to decay, added to much 
 " awkwardness of feeling on my part, calling upon an 
 " entire stranger, produced in my mind feelings of 
 " thoughtlulness and melancholy. I would fain almost 
 " have returned without entering the wooden mansion, 
 " imagining that its possessor would exclaim, ' What 
 " intruding fellow is here coming to break in upon my 
 " pursuits r But these difficulties ceased almost with 
 •' their existence. A female servant (an English wo- 
 " man) informed me that her master was from home, 
 " attending at the county court. Her language wa«
 
 Part III] Secovd Postscript. 85l 
 
 •* natural enough for a person in her situation, she 
 " pressed me to walk in, being quite certain that I was 
 " her countrywan ; and she was so delighted to see au 
 " ENc/lishiiiuu, instead of those nasty yuessitig Yankees. 
 " Following my guide through the kitchen, (the floor 
 *' of whic^\ she asserted, was imbedded with tirn ftet 
 " of dirt when Mr. Cobbett came there— it had Been 
 " previously in the occupation of Americans) I was 
 " conducted to a front parlour, which contained but 
 "a single chair and several trunks- of sea-clothes. 
 " IMr. Cobbett's first question on seeing me was, ' Are 
 " you an American, Sir I' then, ' What are my ob- 
 " jects in the United States ! Was I acquainted with 
 " the I'riends of liberty in London 1 How long had I 
 " left ? ' &c. He was imtnediately familiar. I was 
 '* pleasingly disappointed with the general tone of his 
 "manners. Mr Cohheiithin/is meanly of tha Amcri- 
 *' can people, but spoke highly of the economy of their 
 " government. — He does not advise persons in respec- 
 " table circumstances to emigrate, even in the present 
 " state of England. In his opinion a family who can 
 " barely live upon their property, will more consult 
 " their happiness by not removing to the United States. 
 " He almost laughs at Mr. Birkheck's settling in the 
 ♦' western country. This being the first time 1 had seen 
 " this well-known character, 1 viewed him with no or- 
 " dinary degree of interest. A print by Bartolozzi, 
 *' executed in 1801, converys a correct outline of his 
 " person. His eyes are small, and pleasingly good 
 " natured. To a French gentleman present, he was 
 "attentive; with his sons, familiar; to his servants, 
 *' easy , but to all, in his tone and manner, resolute 
 " and determined. He feels no hesitation in praising 
 " himself, and evidently believes that he is eventually 
 " destined to be the Atlas of the British nation. His 
 " I'aculty in relating anecdotes is amusing. Instan- 
 " ces when we meet. My impressions of Mr. Cob- 
 *' bett are, that those who know him would like him 
 *' if they can be content to submit unconditionally to 
 " his dictation. ' Obey me and I will treat you kindly; 
 ** if you do not, I will trample on you,' seemed visible
 
 352 Second Postscript. [Part III. 
 
 " in every word and feature. He appears to feel, in 
 *' its fullest force, the sentiment, 
 
 * I have no brother, am like no {)rother : 
 ' I am myself alone.'/' 
 
 665. It is unlucky for this blade, that the parties are 
 alive. First -^ let the " English uoman" speak for 
 herself, which she does, in these words : 
 
 666. I remember, that, about a week after I came 
 to Hyde Park, in 1817, a man came to the house in 
 the evening, when Mr. Cobbett was out, and that he 
 qame again the next morning. I never knew, or asked, 
 what countryman he was. He came to the back door. 
 I first gave him a chair in a back-room; but, as he 
 was a slippery-looking young man, and as it was grow- 
 ing late, my husband thought it was best to bring him 
 down into the kitchen, where he staid till he went away. 
 I had no talk with him. I could not know what condi- 
 tion Mr. Cobbett found the house in, for I did not come 
 here 'till the middle of August. I never heard whe- 
 ther the gentleman that lived here before Mr. Cobbett, 
 was an American, or not. I never in my life said a 
 word against the people or the country : I am very glad 
 I came to it ; I am doing very well in it ; and have 
 found as good and kind friends amongst the Americans, 
 as I ever had in all my life. 
 
 M.^RY AxN CuURCHEB. 
 
 Hyde Park, 
 Eth January, 1819. 
 
 667. Mrs. Churcher puts me in mind, that I asked 
 her what sort of a looking man it was, and that she said 
 he looked like an Exciseman, and that Churcher ex- 
 claimed : " Why, you fool, they don't have any Excise- 
 " men and such fellows here ! " — I never was at a county 
 court in America in my lile. I was out shooting. As 
 to the house, it is a better one than he ever entered, 
 except as a lodger or a servant, or to carry home work. 
 The path, so far from being trackless, was as beaten 
 as the highweiy. — The gentleman who lived here before 
 me was an Englishman, whose napie was Crow. But
 
 Part III.] Second Postscript. 358? 
 
 only think of dirt, two feet deep, in a kitchen ! All is 
 false. — The house was built by Judge Ludlow. It is 
 large, and very sound and commodious. The avenues 
 of trees before it the most beautiful that I ever saw. 
 The orchard, the fine shade and fine grass all about the 
 house; the abundant garden, the beautiful turnip field; 
 the whole a subject worthy of admiration ; and not a' 
 single drawback. A hearty, unostentatious welcome 
 from me and my sons. A breakfast such, probably, as 
 t!ie fellow will never eat again. — I leave the public 
 to guess, whether it be likely, that I should give a chap 
 like this my opinions, about govcrnmetit or people ! Just 
 as if I did not know the people! Just as if they M'ere 
 new to me ! The man was not in the house /lalf aa 
 hour in the morning. Judge, then, what he could know. 
 of my manners and character. He was a long time 
 afterwards at New York. Would he not have been 
 here a' second time, if I had been familiar enough to 
 relate anecdotes to him I Such blades are not back- 
 ward in renewing their visits whenever they get but a 
 little encouragement. — He, in another part of the ex- 
 tracts that I have seen, complains of the reserve of the 
 American ladies. No ^^ social intercourse," be says, 
 between the sexes. That is to say, he could find none ! 
 I'll engage he could not; among.st the whites, a.t least. 
 It is hardly possible for me to talk about the public 
 affairs of England and not to talk of some of my own 
 acts ; but is it not monstrous to suppose, that I should 
 praise myself, and show that I believed myself destined 
 to be the Atlas of the British nation, in my conversa- 
 tion of a few minutes with an ulter stranger, and that, 
 too, a blade whom I took for a decent tailor, my son 
 William fur a shopkeeper's clerk, aild Mrs. Churcher, 
 with less charity, for a slippery young man, or, at best, 
 for an Exciseman ! — As 1 said before, such a man can 
 knuw nothing o( the people of America. He has no 
 channel through which to r/ct at them. And, indeed, 
 wlnj should he ! Can he go into the families of people at 
 home ! Not he, indeed, beyond his own low circle. Why 
 should he do it here, then ? Did he think he was com- 
 ing here to live at free quarter ? The black woman's 
 hut, indeed, he might force himself into with impunity ;
 
 S54 Secoxd Postscbipt. [Part III. 
 
 sixpence would insure him a reception there ; but, it 
 would be a shame, indeed, if such a man could be ad- 
 mitted to unreserved intercourse with American ladies. 
 Slippery as he was, he could not slide into their good 
 graces, and into the possession of their fathers' soul- 
 subduing dollars ; and so he is gone home to curse the 
 *' nasty miessing Americans." 
 
 Wm. cobbett.
 
 INDEX TO PART I. 
 
 Apples oxcbanged for turnips, March 3lst. 
 
 Fall-Pipin, 'inscription of, Oct. 7th. 
 
 Buckwheat, time for sowing, July 23d. — Time for cutting, 
 
 Oct. 6tb. 
 Barns, very fine in Pennsylvania, Feb. 16th. 
 Beans, kidney, green, in market, Oct. lllh. 
 Board of Agriculture, par. 117. 
 
 Birkbeck, Mr., par. IC, Jan. 21st, Feb. 23d, March 11th. 
 Burdett, Sir F., March 12ih, par. 98. 
 Candles, home made, remarks on, Uec. 25th. 
 Climate, May 5lh 1817, to April 24th 1818. 
 Corporations, as law-givers, Feb. 28th. 
 Curwen, Mr., par. 68, 69. 121. 123.^ 
 Cartwright, Major, par. HI. 
 Cramp, Mr., par. 117. 132. 
 Castlereagh, par. 120. 
 
 Disciples, ears of corn that they plucked, June 3d. 
 Dress whereby to judge of the weather, June 16th, July 10th, 
 
 Sept. 18th— 28th, Oct. 11th— 22d, Nov. 11th, March 2l8t. 
 Dews, equal to showers, July 29ih, Jan. 13th. 
 Kugland. neatness of its inhabitants, par. 18. — Wetness of the 
 
 climate, .July 2'Jth. — Popniatiou of, shifted, and not aug- 
 
 iTieiited, by the Funding System, Feb. 16ih. 
 Fences on Long Island, par. 16. 
 
 Flies and musciuitoes, bred by fdth, June 19th, July 14. , 
 Fowls ought to be kept warm, Jan. 4tii, March 15th. 
 Farms, description of, on Long Island, par. 22. 
 
 houses in Pennsylvania, Feb. 16th. 
 
 Fruits, dried, March 3Ul. 
 
 Flowers, want of, in America, par. 22. 
 
 Fortescue, Feb. I'lih. 
 
 Freemaiitle, Mr. Nicholas, March 1st. 
 
 Gauntlet, Mr. W., his pigs, par. 101, 
 
 Harvest earlier than in EDgland, par. 19. — Description of, 
 
 July 24ih. 
 Hops grows well in America, Feb. 7tli. 
 Hedges not found in America, March 11th. 
 Health, par. 23. 
 Hagar, prayer of, Feb. 16lh. 
 
 Harrishurg, description of, living at, Jan. 25th — 27th. 
 Hulme, Mr., Feb. lath— 20th. 
 Hiiixman, Mr. Richard, March 1st. 
 Hardwicke, Lord, par. 119. 
 Indian corn described, June 3d. 
 Locusts that Jobu the Baptist lived on, June 3d.
 
 • ■ r i- ~.w*ff ■ < I 
 
 356 INDEX. 
 
 Long hlantl, description of, par. 12 to 15.— Its nearness to the 
 
 sea an advautafce in summer, June 14lh. 
 Lancaster, descripiion of, Jan. 22d, Fel). 12th— 16lh. 
 Living:«t.)ne, Mr. Chnncellor, par. 25. 27. 
 Mangel Wurzel, an indifferent root, par. 28. 
 Moses, July 24th. 
 Maseres,Mr. Baron, Dec. 16th. 
 M'Kean, Judge, Jan. 10th. 
 M'Allistcr, Mr., Jan. 28th. 
 Malthas, Parson, Feb. 16th. 
 
 New Jersey, in comparison to Pennsylvania, March 11th. 
 Newbold, Mr., March 11th. 
 Oliver, the spy, March 2ud. 
 Plou^^hing, principles of, par. 121 to 125. 
 Peas, fit to gather June 18th.— Ripe in 40 tlays.— Green, in 
 
 market, October 11th. 
 Puddings of apple, July 9th, August 23rd. 
 Philadelphia, remarks on, Jan. 15th. 
 Paul, James, ) , ,,.1 hi i n.u 
 ....Thomas, {Jan. 16ih, March 9lh. 
 
 Penn, William, Feb. 16th. 
 
 Pendrili, Mr., March 1st. 
 
 Perry, Mr. James, par. 21. 
 
 Pitt, par. 117. , 
 
 Quakers, hospitality of, March lOlh.— Bad gardeners, March 
 11th. 
 
 River Delaware, Jan. 13th, Feb. 20th. 
 
 .... Susfjuehannah, Jan. 25th, Feb. 1st. 
 
 Radish, very larfjc, Oct. 28th. 
 
 Ruta Baga, description of the plant, par. 25 to 30. — Mode of 
 saving and of preserving the seed, par. 31 to 36. — '1 ime of 
 sowing, par. 37 to 44.— Quality and preparation of the seed, 
 par. 45 to 49.— Manner of sowing, par. 50 to 55.— After- 
 culture, par. 56 to 64.— Transplanting,;par. 65 to 103.— Time 
 and manner of harvesting, par. 104 to 114.— Quality of the 
 crop, par. 115 to 156. 
 
 Roscoe, Mr., March 26th. 
 
 Rousseau, March 26ih. 
 
 Stones, a barometer, August 7th. 
 
 Singing-birds, none in America, par. 22. 
 
 Shoes need never be nailed, March 31st. 
 
 Scavengers substituted by hogs, Feb. 28th. 
 
 Stock, prices of. May 20th, Dec. 15th. 
 
 of provisions at breaking up of winter, par. 21. 
 
 Severne, Mr., March 1st. 
 
 Stevens, Mr., March 2nd. 
 
 Steam ) , „. in 
 
 Team J ^oats, par. 12. 
 
 Threshing, mode of, July 24th. 
 Travelling, author's, March 11th to 13th. 
 Trenton, laziness of the younj men, March Uth.
 
 INDEX 357 
 
 Taverns, Slaymakor's, living at, Feb. 12lh. 
 
 charges very reasonable, March 11th. 
 
 Taylor, Mr. Antony, March 11th. 
 
 Tull, par. 60. 68. 121. 124. 
 
 Ve-jetation, how vigorous, July 29th. — Continues very late, 
 
 Nov. 16th. — Slate of it iu April, par. 21. 
 Vere, March 1st. 
 
 Woodcocks, time of coming', July 26th. 
 Western couniries, folly of goiujf to, par, 96. — The people 
 
 dirty, Jan. 2lst. 
 Winter of America preferable to that of England, Mar. 31st. 
 does not set in till the ponds are full, 
 
 Dec. 14th. 
 Woods of America, beautiful, par. 15. 
 Woods, Mr., par. 101. 
 Yankee family, migration of, March 12ih. 
 Yoke, single for oxen, (plate of it), par. 124, 
 Youuj, Arthur, Sept. 9ih. par. 117, 118. 
 
 INDEX TO PART II. 
 
 BROOM-Com, paragraph 171. 
 
 Baker, Mr., 185. 445. 
 
 R.tlev. 211. 
 
 Byrd," Mr James, S.'JS. 
 
 Brown, Mr. Timothy, 286. 
 
 Bentham, Mi-., Jeremy, 405, 
 
 Brougham, Mr., 405. 
 
 Burdett, Sir F., 409. 
 
 (.halcraft, 430. 
 
 Curwen, Mr., 164. 283. 
 
 Cabbages, 165, 166. 
 
 Cochrane, Lord, 242.444. 
 
 Cows, 293. 
 
 Cl.eese, .3.10. 
 
 Coffin, Sir Isaac, 371. 
 
 Christian, Mr. Professor, 400. 
 
 Clarkp, Mrs., 443. 
 
 Dorsetshire, 181. 
 
 Davrea, Mr., 197.232.^ 
 
 Drinking, 230. 
 
 Earth-burning, 165. 191. 
 
 Encyclopaedia Britauiiica, 190. 
 
 Expense of cultivatinj Cabbages in America, 190.
 
 358 . INDEX. 
 
 Fences, 162. 
 
 Fruit in America, 334. 
 
 Furniture, Household, 337. 
 
 Gater, Mr., 324. ,. . ,, . ^„. 
 
 Governnn-nt, Laws and Religion of America, 400. 
 
 Giddy, Mr. Davies, 409. 
 
 Gamier, Mr., 428. 
 
 Hulme, Mr., 161. 
 
 Hart, the Rev. Mr., 232. 
 
 Hogs, 295. 
 
 Hicks, Mr. Elias, 315. 
 
 House-keepins:, expenses of, 325. 
 
 Hackney Coaches at New York, 338. , 
 
 Hops, 430. 
 
 Jndian Corn, transplanting of, 163. 213. 
 
 Judges, description of the Aoierican, 264. 
 
 Lockhart, Mr., 445. 
 
 Lawrence, Mr. Judge, 219. 
 
 London, 176. 
 
 Mitchell, Dr., 218. 
 
 Mitchell, Mr. Judge, 232. 236. 257. 
 
 New York, 176. 
 
 New Brunswick, 186. 
 
 Nova Scotia, 241. 
 
 Preface to Second Part, 157. 
 
 Paul, Mr. James, 168. 
 
 Paul, Miss Sarah, 169. 
 
 Pricking out j>lants, 181. 
 
 Preparation of the land intended for root crops, 183 
 
 Postscript, 247. 
 
 Pitt, 263. 
 
 Poultrv, 309. 
 
 Prices'of land, 310. 
 
 of labour, food and raiment, 313. 
 
 People of America, their manners, customs, &c. 342 
 Phillips, Sir Richard, 372. 
 Paupers, 389. 
 
 the Sardinian, 394. 
 
 Parsons, the Hampshire, 444. 
 
 Ruta Baga, 16.'). 175. 225. 
 
 Rural Sports, 369. 
 
 Rose, George, 428. 
 
 Soot, 207. 
 
 Smith, Mr. William, 245. 
 
 Sheep, 294. 
 
 Stickler, Mr., 330. 
 
 Servants, Domestic, 339. 
 
 Stewart, Daniel, 439. 
 
 'full, Mr., 164. 201.259. 
 
 Turnips, Swedish, 225. 
 
 ..directions for sowing the, 184, 185.
 
 INDEX, [9S9 
 
 Turnips, Swedish, directions for planting, 228. 
 
 , fur the cultivation of, 233. 
 
 , for preserving of, 240. 242. 
 
 proper age for planting, 187. 
 
 Tierney, Mr., 230. 
 Tissot, Monsieur, 282. 
 Taylor, Job, 328. 
 Tocker, Miss, 443. 
 Tithes, 443. 
 Wiltshire, 181. 
 Waithman, Signer, 336. 
 Wakefield, Mr. O., 398. 
 Winchester, 444. 
 Wiggins, Mr., 201. 
 
 INDEX TO PART III. 
 
 Alleghennv Mountains, paragraph 564. 
 
 Burden, Sir F., 461, 
 
 Birkbeck, Mr., 507. 
 
 Letters to, against emigrating to the lUinofs Ter-f 
 
 ritory, 569. 616. 621. 
 
 Broom-Corn, the utility of, 641. 
 
 Baring, Mr., 647. 
 
 Cartwright, Major, 461. 
 
 Cincinnati, 487. 4B9. 
 
 Chambers, Mr. Judge, a tavern-keeper, 520. 
 
 Clav, Mr., 531. 
 
 Chillicothe, 540. 
 
 Corn, Mr. Birkbeck's idea of the extent of crop of, &c. 606. 
 
 Cobbett, Mr., his Letter on Ruta Baga, 649. 
 
 Churcher, Mary-Ann, 666. 
 
 Brown, T.Esq., Dedication to, 249. 
 
 Dillon, Mr., 549. 
 
 Expenses of Mr. Hulme on his Tour, 566. 
 
 ditto, for a Year's house-keeping, 567. 
 
 of settlins in thelUiuois, as calculated by Mr. Birk- 
 beck, 592. 597. 693. 
 
 of the erection of buildings, by Mr. Cobbett, 599, 
 
 600, 601. 603. 
 , French Lick, 526. 
 
 Flower, Mr. G., his opinion that Farmers '♦ transplant well." 
 574.^,
 
 360 INDEX. 
 
 Freedom of Gipsies, 584. 
 
 Flogiiing of English Li>cal Militia at Ely, 646. 
 
 Fearoii's Falsehoods, 656. 
 
 Graham, Mr., 555. 
 
 Huln.e, Mr., 450. 
 
 Harmony, 513. 
 
 Iron Factories, 549. 
 
 Journal, Introduction to, 453. 
 
 Louisville, 493. 
 
 Lawrence, Mr. Judge, his farm, 590. 
 
 Maysvilie, 537. 
 
 Mills, 637. 
 
 Preface lo Third Part, 449. 
 
 Pittsburgh, 472. 561. 
 
 Princeton, 502. 
 
 Prices, general list of, taken by Mr. Hulme at Zanesville, 550. 
 
 Parlnerships amongst leaders not always harmonious, 582. 
 
 Pigs, Swedish Turnips, &c. 643. 
 
 Quakers and Parsons-: the former preferred to the latter, 568. 
 
 Rapp, Mr. George, 515. 583. 
 
 Road of the general government from Zanesville to Pittsburgh, 
 5J3. 
 
 Rencontre at New York, 565. 
 
 Steam-boats, 556. 
 
 Steubanville, Woollen Factory at, 558. 
 
 Society in the Illinois, 581. 
 
 Thatching, 641. 
 
 Townseud, P. S. Esq., Letter to Mr. Cobbett on the Rtita Baga, 
 652. 
 
 Vevay, 492. 
 
 Western Countries, 449. 
 
 Wages in Western Countries, 535. 
 
 Wheeling, Virginia, 554. 
 
 Windham, Mr., 584. 
 
 Zanesville, 546. 
 
 B, Bensley, Bolt Courts Fleet Street,